


Ikonoclast

by anantipodean



Category: DCU (Comics), Impulse (Comics), Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics), The Flash (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 10:25:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14054907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anantipodean/pseuds/anantipodean
Summary: Another story I barely remember that I am rescuing from livejournal. This was originally written and posted in 2005.Kon and Tim wake up in a different dimension. You know, day ending in 'Y.'





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jamjar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamjar/gifts).



> Notes: Another crack-fic. This time inspired by an Eddie Izzard DVD, and the fact I have been on heavy painkillers almost all week (don't ask) , which led to this conversation with jamjar:
> 
> Me: So in this universe when Wally went into the speed force he came out different  
> J: ...  
> J: how cracky is this AU?  
> Me: he was all 'I've seen the face of God (and he looks like Uncle Barry but still) and come back from the dead'  
> Me: 'Superheroing doesn't seem so important anymore'  
> J: ...he found religion?  
> Me: so he founded a religion.
> 
> Lots of Tim, Bart and Kon. Loosely betaed by mikkeneko and jamjar.

“Ow.” His head hurt. Scratch that, his head pounded. No, it was the school of hard knocks -- inside his head -- and it was exam week -- 

“Kon?” A foot nudged him in the ribs. 

Kon groaned in a way that said ‘go away and let me die in peace.’

The foot was not convinced. “Kon. Get up. We have a situation.”

“I have a situation right here, Robin.” But Kon groaned and rolled over because he knew from experience that Tim would go on kicking him in the ribs without any pity until he got the response he wanted. “I would do anything for an aspirin right now,” he said, and then realised they weren’t alone. Tim was standing in front of Kon, wrapped in his cloak as much as he could be and they were in some sort of room. Grey and cold and were those bars? Kon staggered to his feet, hurting. 

Those were bars and the hum of energy suggested they were electric. Behind them, grim and menacing were blurry blobs of colour that went in and out of focus before becoming the JLA. Well, most of the JLA. Kon squinted.

“Interesting tights, Superman. What’s with the costume change?”

“Costume change?” Evil menacing Superman stopped looking menacing and started looking baffled instead. “They’ve always been this way --”

“What, no one told you that it’s horizontal stripes that are supposed to be flattering?” Kon waved a hand. “You look like you’ve raided the old Star-Spangled kid’s wardrobe or something.”

“The who?”

“Don’t listen to the intruders,” Green Lantern said. “They’re trying to confuse us.”

“Actually my mind scan would suggest they are as confused as we are, possibly more so.” The Martian Manhunter’s eyes went distant and a soothing coolness settled over Kon’s thoughts. “I also have a strong sense of head-ache.”

“Don’t forget -- this one claimed to be Robin.” Green Arrow folded his arms suspiciously. “Don’t know who he is, but he’s no Robin.”

“Batman will be here soon -- in fact he’s just arrived.” J’onn eyes stopped being distant and started being sharp again. “Perhaps now would be a good time to ask them about the weapon?”

“Weapon?” Kon looked to Tim to see if he had any idea what was happening.

“When I first woke up I was holding this purple stick with wings. Don’t you remember?” Tim said. “We were in San Fran with the rest of the Titans. That weird Luthor-lookalike in the purple robes ran out from nowhere. He was trying to hit you with a beam from this thing, but I grabbed it from him. Next thing I know, we’re lying in the middle of a small crater in the middle of New York.”

“The loony guy, right.” Kon’s headache was starting to return.“Why can’t we ever have normal adventures? With like -- gorgeous alien babes in tight costumes or --”

“I came as quickly as I could,” Batman announced grimly, and the JLA parted to make way for him. “As requested, Robin is with me --” he paused, eyes narrowing as he stared at the two of them, but mostly at Robin.

“What’s happened?” Another figure pushed his way through to the front of the crowd. “What’s everyone looking at -- shit.”

Kon swallowed. He couldn’t agree more. 

The guy facing them -- he had the mask, black instead of green, and Tim’s hair, only cut shorted and spiked and Tim’s face only Tim didn’t have a thing for peircings, especially visible, easily identifiable peircings, nor as far as Kon knew, did Tim have a fetish for leather or wear goth boots. This Robin had even painted his nails black.

Kon turned to see what Tim made of this but Tim was just standing there, staring, with his mouth open. Other Robin was doing a pretty good goldfish impersonation too. 

Then as though they’d both made up their minds simultaneously, they pulled the masks off. 

Identical blue eyes.

“This is freaking me out here,” the goth-Robin said finally.

“Couldn’t agree more,” Tim said, and they smirked identical smirks at each other.

Kon sidled closer to Robin. “Tim, your clone’s wearing mascara.”

“Shut up, Kon.”

“Their brain patterns match. This is definitely Robin, just not our Robin,” J’onn pronounced finally. 

“And the other?” Superman asked, looking at Kon.

“He believes himself to be a clone created to replace his world’s version of you,” J’onn said and Kon’s mouth fell open. “Furthermore, he was created using DNA from you . . . and Luthor.”

“Hey!” Kon protested. “That stuff’s private!”

“Luthor? But surely that’s impossible!” Superman echoed. 

Batman went even grimmer and intoned, “And the coming of the son of the golden one shall bring both joy and sorrow to thee, for though he be the heir of the house of light, equally he is the son of darkness, and he shall bring a god to his knees.”

Long pause.

“You don’t really believe that, do you? I thought we agreed, that Raven woman is a nut,” Green Arrow said.

“Roth’s mental state aside, her words have an uncanny knack of coming true,” Batman said. “Often in ways unexpected.”

“True,” Superman said and he seemed relieved. “Perhaps these boys might be the answer to our problem?”

“We have problems of our own,” Robin said. “Our team-mates in San Francisco -- we have to get back to them.”

“First,” said Batman. “We need to work out how they got here.”

\---

The Watchtower was much the same. Kon and Tim sat in a corner, watching as the Justice League debated the best course of action. 

“Seems like the purple stick thing wasn’t a weapon at all,” Tim said, “but some sort of reality jumping device. It’s been damaged in the jump and it’s completely out of power, but if they can work out what sort of power source their Luthor used --”

“Figures it’d be Luthor. No matter what reality we’re in, he always finds a way to make my life hell,” Kon sighed, and took another slice of pizza. “At least in this universe they still have Dominos.”

Tim snorted. “At least one of us is happy here.”

“You’re not?” Kon paused. “As far as Alternate Universes go, this one doesn’t seem that bad. I mean, Justice League doesn’t seem totally evil or anything --”

“There’s no Flash. Or Wonderwoman.”

“And Luthor’s some freaky religious nut who apparently got sick of waiting for a religious prophecy to fulfill itself and came to our universe to kidnap me to speed things up. So what?” Kon stuffed the rest of the slice of pizza in his mouth and reached for another one. “These guys are treating us to lunch and helping us get back home. Stop stressing, Boy Wonder, and chill.”

“I can’t chill, not with . . .” Tim shrugged, indicating the corner where the other Robin leaned against the wall in the shadows, managing to look supremely bored, yet still have a suggestion of deep angst about him. 

“You don’t like him, do you?” Kon grinned. “Having another one of you about unnerves you.”

“He’s not me,” Tim insisted. “Have you seen his outfit? I mean, talk about badly designed for combat --”

“Like you can talk, or do I need to remind you that you’re wearing tights?” 

Tim drew himself up haughtily. “It’s not just the costume,” he said. “It’s what it implies. I mean -- piercings. They make him identifiable. He probably has no concern for those whose identities he’s putting in danger just by --”

“Oh, right. The nipple piercing’s freaking you out.” Kon shrugged. “I kinda like it.”

Short, shocked silence. “What?” Tim whipped his head around to stare at his leather-clad counterpart. “He’s got -- how can you tell?”

“I asked. While you were talking with the JLA.” Kon shrugged. “I said, ‘Like the metal, man. Got any more?” And he showed me.”

Tim slid down his chair, looking as though he hoped it would swallow him. “Please tell he didn’t --”

“What? Oh -- pierce that? You’re in luck. Although he did get a tattoo on his hip.” Kon leered. “Tastefully batty and everything.”

“Look, Kon, when we get back, not a word to any of the others about this. I’ll never live it down.” 

“Here I was about to say the same thing.” Goth-Robin sauntered over to them. “Please don’t talk to anyone I know. It’ll completely ruin my image.”

“They’re going to let us out then?” Tim asked. 

“JLA have an emergency situation. Hush hush and all, but until they wrap it up, we’ll have to see about finding a source of power for the device on our own.”

“We?” Kon asked.

Goth-Robin shrugged. “They seemed to think that you’d need a guide and since I’m not needed for the other emergency, and I already know about you guys --”

“Right,” Tim said although he sounded less than happy. “So, what is the plan?”

“Firstly, finding a viable source of power for your machine here. Luckily, we have a few possibilities.” Goth-Robin snagged a slice of pizza and settled back comfortably in the chair beside Kon. “Ever heard of something called the Speed-Force?”

“Sure,” Kon said. “That’s where the Flash and that get their powers from. A kind of limitless energy source that they can tap into, right?”

“There’s more to it than that,” Tim said. “Wally said that when Johnny Quick died, his spirit became one with it -- that’s it kind of like a speedster afterworld --”

“Wait,” Goth-Robin said. “You guys know Wallace West?”

Kon looked at Tim and shrugged. “Well, yeah. The Flash. Fastest Man Alive.”

“And you’ve spoken to him? What’s he like?”

“Wally? Well, when he’s not the Flash . . .” Kon shrugged. “One of the most normal guys I know.”

“Shit,” said Goth-Robin. “Like this is seriously screwed up.”

Tim frowned. “What is Wally like in this world?” He demanded. “He’s one of the bad guys or what?”

“Not exactly. Just -- shit, this is complicated. But ages ago there was this thing and his girlfriend would have died but he took her place and went into the speed force and he should have died but he didn’t.” Goth-Robin sat up straighter, leaning into them. His voice hushed as he continued. “He says he was dead. That he was in heaven. And he came back.”

Kon shrugged. “Same thing happened in our world. People come back from the dead all the time. Well, nearly all the time. Except when you really really want them too --”

“Yeah, but when the Flash came back he was different. I mean, really different. He had all these powers and everything and he didn’t need to eat or sleep or anything and he was -- he began talking about seeing god and everything and that after all of that, super-heroing didn’t seem so important. He was still all about saving people, but he thought we should teach them to save themselves first --”

“So what, he found religion?”

“He founded religion. He’s like -- a god.” 

Kon swore. “You’re kidding.”

“Wish I was. See, there’s always being religious nutters who think that Superman is some kind of god, right? And this -- well, this didn’t exactly help. And about the same time Flash quit the JLA, Wonderwoman decides that she is neglecting her true role as champion to her people and starts a revival in the worship of the Greek Gods.”

“No way,” Tim said. “This is seriously weird.”

“You’re telling me,” his double said. “She’s normal in your world too?”

Tim hesitated. “One couldn’t exactly call her normal but --”

“Wow,” said Goth-Robin and they were all silent for a long moment as they considered varying degrees of normal.

“So, we’re going to talk to Wally now?” Kon said. “Man, if his and Bart’s relationship was bad before, I don’t even want to think about what it’s like now Wally’s set himself up as a god.”

“Bart?” Goth-Robin said with confusion.

“Impulse -- Kid Flash -- no?” Tim frowned. “What about Teen Titans -- Young Justice?”

“Doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“What about Cassie?” Kon demanded. “There’s got to be a Cassie in this world, right? Wondergirl?”

“Only Cass I know is Batgirl,” Goth-Robin said with a leer. “And although her costume is a constant source of wonder --”

“That isn’t the Cassie we were thinking of.” Tim patted Kon’s shoulder. “We won’t be here long, Kon.”

Goth-Robin chewed his slice of pizza and studied them thoughtfully. “You guys dating or what?”

\---

The flight to Tibet took almost all day, even with the loan of the Bat-jet. Tim was staying as far away from Kon as possible, and avoiding the other Robin. Other Robin had his hands full piloting. Kon was bored enough that he actually began reading the religious text that had built up around Superman.

“This all started like 5 years ago, right?” he complained, bringing the book into the cockpit. “So why’s it all written in ‘thee’s and ‘thou’s and all that. Don’t these people speak English?”

“Most of it’s written as it was spoken by a certain Rachel Roth, otherwise known as Raven,” Goth-Robin said, setting the controls onto auto-pilot and turning to face Kon. “Apparently, when she goes into a prophetic trance, that’s how she sounds.”

“Yeah? How did Raven get mixed up with this anyway?” Kon sat in the co-pilot’s chair and frowned at the book.

“Luthor happened to discover her about the same time he founded his religion,” Goth-Robin shrugged. “For a while, we dismissed her as a deluded fanatic but . . . it seems she has some meta-gifts, even if she has an odd way of expressing them. Her phrophecies have been accurate so far.”

“Huh.” Kon paused to consider an illustration of Luthor kneeling before an image of Superman. “So if Luthor founded this religion, why’s he trying to destroy it?”

“Superman refused to play along with his cult. Luthor got . . . upset. Angry. Accused him of being a false god and of lot of other things. He’s gone from worshipping Superman to hating him . . . guess he hopes that the god you destroy will be him.”

Kon shuddered. “How accurate are these prophecies?”

“Well . . .” Goth-Robin paused. “Not like accurate-accurate. More like, you wake up the next day and think -- hey -- so that’s what she meant.”

“Huh.”

“Look, Superboy,” Goth-Robin said. “You seem like a nice guy and all. I’m sure you wouldn’t kill anyone -- not like on purpose. Whatever happens, don’t sweat it.”

Kon shrugged and shut the book. “I’m a clone of Luthor. What makes you so sure I won’t?”

Goth-Robin jerked his head towards where Tim was staring out the window in the back of the Bat-jet. “He seems to think so.” He paused. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but it’s a pretty fair bet that boy-scout over there won’t but . . . regardless of what he said about respect and teammates at the Watchtower, he likes you.”

“Well, d’uh. We’re best friends.”

“No, likes you likes you.” Goth-Robin watched Kon carefully. “I’m guessing there’s somebody else involved?”

“Cassie. She’s my girlfriend, and our friend.” Kon paused to look back down the plane at Tim. “You’re sure? I mean you -- he -- you’ve always seemed so --”

“Repressed?” 

“I wasn’t going to actually say that.”

“But you were thinking that. Is he always that . . .”

“Anal?”

“Pedantic.” Goth-Robin winced. “He doesn’t look like he’s ever had a day of fun in his life.”

“Ah, he’s all right,” Kon said. “What’s with you?”

“Can I help it if I find the presence of another me disturbing? I mean, I look at him and think ‘there but for the grace of god’ and --”

“No, I mean what’s up with your threads and everything. Lip-ring’s cool and all, but wouldn’t it be a liability in a fight?”

“Maybe if I let people get close enough for that kind of fight,” Goth-Robin smirked. 

“How did you get Batman to agree to it?”

“He didn’t.” Goth-Robin grinned. “He hates it.”

“Oh,” Kon nodded. “Right. Nice to know that any Robin in any universe is equally fucked up.”

Tim had evidentally decided they were getting too friendly, and he came down the plane to lean over their shoulders. “How far are we from this monastery?” he asked. 

“Should be landing in twenty minutes,” Goth-Robin said taking the controls off auto-pilot. “The landing pad’s right by the monastery, for cases like this. The Flash is still ready to help in an emergency, even if he’s not exactly in agreement with the rest of the League right now.”

“Right. Anything we should know?”

Goth-Robin shrugged. “I’ve never really been inside. But the monks seem nice enough.”

“What were you talking about before?” Tim asked.

“Oh, this and that. Superboy was telling me about your world and the Titans and everything,” Goth-Robin shrugged. “Go on about this -- Bart was it?”

“Kid-Flash,” Kon shrugged. “Yeah, we’ve known Bart for years. Our age, speedster, attention span of a gnat, and he’s addicted to video games --”

Goth-Robin choked. “Is he bald?”

“Bart? No. He’s got hair and then some. Why?”

“Oh, no reason,” Goth-Robin said carefully. “Just prepare yourselves for a shock.”


	2. Chapter 2

Jay Garrick was waiting for them as the Bat-jet touched down. At least Kon assumed it was Jay Garrick. Costume looked the same, even if the beard was new. 

“Yo, Jay!” Kon said when as they stepped out of the plane. “That’s an interesting look you got going there. Were you aiming for Old Testament?”

Jay raised an eyebrow at him and the apparent Robin-twins. “Have we met?”

“They have but you haven’t,” Goth-Robin said. “Alternate Universe. They need the Flash’s help getting back.”

Tim held out the machine. “This is some sort of universe travelling device. As far as we can tell a villain from this world used it to bring us here. We’re stranded until we figure out what he used to power it.”

“The Manhunter and the League vouch for them,” Goth-Robin added. 

Jay studied the device thoughtfully and nodded. “This is a matter worthy of bringing before the Flash,” he said. “But the Abbot rarely allows non-believers to enter the monastery --”

“Please,” Tim said. “I know it’s unusual, but we’re lost and we don’t know anything about this world. All we want to do is go home.”

Jay nodded. “Fair enough. If you agree to conduct yourselves with appropriate reverence and respect, there should be no problem. Robin?”

Goth-Robin shook his head. “You know me,” he said. “I’ll stay with the Jet. Get it prepped for the return journey.”

Jay nodded. “Follow me, young travellers.” He led the way across the snow to a tall thin building that leaned against the side of the mountain. A flash of lightning, stroking its way down the outside of the building was etched in stone, and as they entered the outer courtyard, they came across a statue that wouldn’t have been out of place in the Flash Museum. 

“That’s Barry Allen, right?” Kon said. 

“He’s one with the speed force now,” Jay said pausing a moment to study the statue. “An inspiration to us all.”

Maybe this wasn’t so different after all. “Isn’t this place quiet after Keystone?” Kon asked. “I mean, it must get boring up here.”

“Not at all,” Jay said ushering them down a long corridor. Monks, dressed in what seemed like typical buddhist robes -- did all buddhist monks wear that shade of red? -- and closely shaven heads drew back to make way for them. “We withdrew here for a reason. Following the Flash’s example, we’ve turned the focus of our powers inward, seeking enlightenment and greater understanding of our role.”

“Will we speak to the Flash?” Tim asked.

“It will depend on the will of the Speed-Force,” Jay ushered them into a wide room, lined with woven matting and clay-brick walls. “Wait here,” he told them. “The Flash spends all of his time in the speed force these days. The only way to contact him is via his Priest. I’ll put your case before him. While you wait, I suggest you meditate on your reason for coming here and prepare yourselves for his presence.” 

“Well, this is beyond weird,” Kon complained. “What are we supposed to do now?”

“You heard Jay,” Tim made himself comfortable, sitting cross-legged in a yoga like style. “Sit here quietly and wait for Wally. And be polite, Kon. In this world, at least to these people, the Flash is a religious icon.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kon copied Tim’s pose. “I thought he said Wally lived in the speed force now?”

“He could be talking about a different Flash. Although -- well, Max Mercury did have the ability to contact people within the speed-force.”

“That’d make sense. I can picture Max hanging out in a place like this, no problem.”

There was the tinkle of bells outside the room gently and the hanging that served as a door was pushed back and a young monk, probably an apprentice or acolyte or something -- Kon wasn’t sure just what you called a beginner monk anyway -- bowed to them and carried in a bowl of scented water. Seemed he wanted them to wash hands and faces first. A little while later, another novice came by to set down and light candles.

“I think we’re getting somewhere,” Kon said.

“Shush,” Tim cautioned him and the door hanging was pushed away again. 

At first Kon saw just the height (or lack thereof) and shaven head and thought another novice. Then he noticed that the robe was yellow edged with red, unlike the other monks they’d seen so far. Speed Priest. And then he looked up and saw the eyes and only one person had eyes that colour gold --

“Holy shit,” he said. “Bart -- who in hell made you a priest?”

“How dare you!” Jay Garrick was suddenly there and furious. “You realise who you’re addressing -- where you are --”

“We’re sorry!” Tim said, slapping his hand across Kon’s mouth. “Just surprised -- we didn’t mean --”

“It’s all right, Jay.” And the voice was the same even if unnaturally calm and composed. “As they recognised you, it’s not too unlikely an assumption to suppose they know me as well. Or at least their world’s incarnation of me.” He seated himself before Tim and Kon, his movements quick and easy as ever, and continued serenely. “We must make allowances for their lack of courtesy. This is not their world.” He paused, studying Kon and Tim with interest. His eyes were oddly large against his bare skull. “Robin, I recognise,” he said. “But Superboy is new to me.”

He wasn’t their Bart. Kon took a deep breath. “I’m Kon-El. I was cloned from Superman and . . . look, I’m really sorry. I just wasn’t thinking.”

“Bartholemew Allen, High-Priest of Speed, Heir to the Flash, cousin of the Chosen One,” Bartholemew said conversationally. “Jay Garrick you already know. I understand you want to speak to the Flash?”

As Tim launched into their story once more, Kon studied Bart. This was . . . well, he could kind of see where Tim was coming from with his whole freaking out thing. What got Kon was not the robe. It wasn’t the bald head, it wasn’t the way Jay respectfully deferred to Bart. It was the way Bart was sitting, perfectly still and not even jiggling a little as he listened to Tim. His eyes were calm and serence -- and completely non-Bart like. 

“We have the device with us,” Tim said, elbowing Kon. “Show him, Superboy.”

“Oh, right.” 

But Bart shook his head as he held out the instrument. “You said that Luthor used it to attack you, right? As High Priest, it would be unfitting for me to handle something used as a weapon.”

“What do you mean? Jay did.”

“Following the Flash’s example, we who worship speed have made a solemn vow not to use our powers to harm anyone,” Jay explained. “We strive to rid ourselves of all agressive thoughts. In Bartholemew’s case, that vow extends even further.”

“What -- you don’t use your powers to fight for Justice? That is seriously fucked up.”

“Watch your tone, young man,” Jay started but Bart held up a hand.

“We’re more along the lines of peaceful opposition and philosophical debate for Justice,” he said and Kon for a moment thought he saw something familiar. “Violence -- no matter how just the cause in which it is committed -- begets violence, you know?” He paused thoughtfully. “Like cockroaches.”

“Cockroaches,” Tim said and his tone was wary.

“Yeah. If you step on a cockroach, you get baby cockroaches,” Bartholemew said eagerly. “And that’s not all. Cockroaches smell with their mouth -- gross, huh? Like eating with your nose -- and they can live for a week without a head --”

“High Priest,” Jay interrupted. “With all due respect, our guests are here for a reason.”

“Of course. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” the High Priest said smoothly. “I have considered your request and will place it before the Flash.”

“Thanks a lot,” Kon said, and Tim leaned forward eagerly. 

“Not to rush you or anything but how long will it take --”

“Silence,” Jay said, putting a hand out in front of them, and his tone was oddly fond and paternal. “Bartholemew is communing with the speed-force as we speak.”

And that was when things really got freaky. 

Bartholemew hadn’t shut his eyes for more than a second and lightning crackled from his eyes and around him and the room was heavy with electric energy, like when you were walking under storm clouds and there was no thunder or lightning yet, but the air was full of the potential -- 

Lightning whispered all around them and over them and Kon edged closer to Tim. It felt like static electricity waiting to happen and he didn’t want to be there when it did. For a scant half-second it seemed like the energy took the shape of people and the room was full of the hum of voices and then everything exploded in this huge gust of wind and the sudden darkness was disorientating --

“Bartholemew, Jay. It is good to see you in the flesh.”

Kon pulled himself off the floor. He knew that voice -- “Flash!” 

“S’up Wally,” Bart said diffidently, extending a hand to help Kon up. “You might want to work on your entrances,” he noted. “Not so good for our guests.”

And ow, static.

“It’s difficult to judge re-entry, you know that,” the Flash said, as Jay put Tim back on his feet. “But I do apologise.” He held out his hand. “This the device?”

“Yeah.” It took effort not to inch away from the Flash. His eyes -- the lightning still looped and crackled around him, even when the cowl fell away to reveal Wally West’s red hair and face beneath. Kon had no trouble believing he might be more than human.

“The Speed-Force had no part in powering this device,” Wally said almost immediately. “Although it may be of use in your efforts to return home. The Speed-Force is one and eternal -- we should be able to find your world in us.”

That made no sense at all to Kon, but Tim seemed to get the gist of it at least. “Even if that is true, we’re unable to travel the Speed-Force like you do.”

“Nonetheless, once you have found a source of power for the device, the Speed-Force shall be your guide,” the Flash said with absolute certainty. “Bartholemew will accompany you. He will act as a conduit between you and the Force, and his skills shall aid you in your coming trials.”

“Trials?” Kon said with worry, but the High Priest had other concerns.

“I have plans --” 

Wally folded his arms. “The Speed-Force has spoken.”

“Big philosophical plans,” Bartholemew replied evenly. “I’ve been rethinking our commandments. I think we need an eleventh --”

“No.”

“But you don’t even know what it’s about yet!”

“You will have plenty of time to ponder philosophy while on this journey,” the Flash told him. “And you uphold not only our dignity, but that of all who touch the infinite Speed-Force.”

Bartholemew sighed and bowed. “I shall go and ask the Abbot’s leave for this journey,” he said, tone making it clear he was only doing this because he had to, and stomped down the corridor. 

Jay and the Flash watched him go. 

“He’s a good kid,” Jay said. 

“I know,” the Flash sighed, turning to Kon and Tim. “Robin, Superboy. I wish you luck on your journey.”

And then he was gone in a charge of wind and lightning that tested Kon’s tactile telekinesis to the max. He was, by focusing all his power, just able to stay standing.

Tim, whose only super-power was his ability to turn anything into sarcasm, was not so lucky. 

“Sorry about that,” Jay said, helping him up. “We’re still trying to house train him. He doesn’t come out of the Speed-Force so much these days though and . . .” He shrugged. “Let’s get you something to eat before we take you back to your jet.”

\---

They arrived back at the jet with Bartholemew in tow and the Tibetan equivalent of picnic baskets.

“Is that food?” Goth-Robin said in greeting. “Wait -- don’t tell me he’s coming with us.”

Kon and Tim exchanged glances. “You two know each other?”

“Know Timmy?” Bartholemew said with a frown. “Of course.”

“Tim. Not Timmy,” Goth-Robin growled. “Aren’t we lucky? I didn’t think His Holiness here took breaks for anyone.”

Bartholemew drew himself up. “I take my responsibilities seriously!” he said. “And if you want to talk about responsibilities, I think you could do a much better job at keeping yours --” He paused a moment to blink at Tim. “Is he all right?”

Tim was making a weird choking noise. Kon couldn’t blame him. He’d be doing the same, but his brain had stopped at the ‘Timmy.’ “He’s okay,” he said, thumping Tim on the back. “Think he needs some water -- oh, thanks.” Speedsters did have their uses. 

Kon wasn’t sure letting Bartholemew fly with them in the Bat-jet was a good idea -- the disastrous consequences of the last time Bart had taken an aeroplane were still fresh in his memory -- but Tim was still too shell-shocked to protest, and Goth-Robin just seemed to want to get into the air. Luckily, Bartholemew seemed more interested in meditating then wrecking the plane.

“Where are we going?” Kon asked Goth-Robin, sliding into the co-pilot’s seat. 

“I’ve set our co-ordinates as the Justice League Headquarters,” he said, opening a communications screen. “But I thought I’d consult with the Bat first. They may have a better idea.”

“Cool.” Kon rummaged in the woven baskets the monks had given him. “I think . . . well this looks like bread.”

“Give it here,” Goth-Robin said, grabbing the basket. “Damn vegetarians -- Oh for crying out loud. Brat! Is yeast against your religion now?”

“Yeast is bacteria,” Bartholemew pointed out. “So technically it’s alive. And my name isn’t brat. It’s Bar-tho-le-mew --”

“That was a rhetorical question,” Goth-Robin glared. “Brat.”

“I’m sorry. Do you have problems with words over three syllables? Maybe I should speak more slowly for you --”

“Cut it out,” Tim ordered. “Both of you.” 

Goth-Robin and Bartholemew both opened their mouths to say ‘Make me,’ but Batman either had really good timing or had bugged the jet, and chose that moment to open a video link. “Robin. Report.”

“So far so good,” Tim started and Goth-Robin complained.

“Speedsters have stuck us baby-sitting again --”

Awkward silence.

Bartholemew snickered, and Kon had the distinct impression Batman was smirking on the inside. 

“Let’s hear from our guests, first, shall we?” he suggested diplomatically. 

Tim took that as his cue. 

Kon rummaged around the food baskets as Tim talked. He found some fruit that didn’t seem too weird and bit into it. 

Bartholemew sidled over to him. “Does your world have a Batman too?”

Kon nodded. “As far as I can tell he’s exactly the same as this one. Grim, depressing, scary --”

“At least there are universal constants,” Bartholemew mused. “A cheerful Batman -- that would really be wrong.”

“Tell me about it.” 

Goth-Robin joined them quietly. “As if you can talk. In their world you’re a super-villain.”

“I -- am I? No way -- I wouldn’t -- I mean, you’re making that up!” Bartholemew looked to Kon. “That isn’t really true, is it?”

“No,” Kon admitted. “In our world, you’re exactly like him.” He pointed to the Goth-Robin and tried to keep a straight face. 

“The only clue that Roth’s prophecies speak of with regard to Luthor’s machine is that it shall be powered by a force known not to man,” Batman said. “Since the Speed-Force is out, the next logical place is the Island of Amazons.”

“Yes!” Kon pumped a fist in the air excitedly. 

“No!” Bartholemew protested. “We can’t --”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Both Robins said and then tried to pretend they hadn’t.

“I’ll make the diplomatic arrangements immediately,” Batman said. “Remain on course until I contact you with Themiscyra’s current coordinates. Out.” The transmission ended.

Goth-Robin patted Bartholemew on the back. “Cheer up. Maybe you can wait in the Bat-jet the entire visit.”

Bartholemew shook his hand free. “I’m going to meditate on this turn of events,” he said. “I’ll be in the back if you need me.”

Goth-Robin resumed his place in the pilot’s chair. “Sure, brat. We see any homocidal vegetables we’ll let you know.”

“Why do you go out of your way to antagonise him?” Tim said carefully, eyes blank behind his mask. “He’s an ally.”

“You don’t know anything about him or me,” Goth-Robin said, resolutely taking control of the Bat-jet and staring ahead through the window. “So don’t presume to tell me what to do.”

Kon raised his eyebrows at Tim who shook his head. 

“Whatever. Just remember your actions impact on our chances of getting home. Come on, Kon.”

Kon joined Tim in the back of the Bat-jet. “You okay?” he said. “You don’t usually sound so stressed.”

“I’m not --” Tim sighed. “I don’t like this,” he admitted. “The other Robin, this Bart -- I don’t like any of it.”

When Tim worried, Kon worried. “Hey,” he said, putting his hand on Tim’s shoulder. “If Luthor could travel from this world to ours, surely we can? I mean, we have the JLA and the Speed-Force on our side.”

“You’re right,” Tim said with the briefest of smiles. “Thanks, Kon. I forgot.”

“Anytime,” Kon realised his hand was still on Tim’s shoulder, and he took it back hesitantly, remembering what the other Robin had said. “What else are best friends for?”

He thought he’d sounded perfectly natural but Tim kind of sucked his breath in sharply and said, “He didn’t.”

“What?”

“He told you.”

Kon hung his head. “Am I really that obvious?”

Tim looked like he still wanted to be angry, but thought better of it. “No,” he said. “Doesn’t help that I’ve been thinking of doing the same thing since we left Tibet.”

“What, telling me?”

“Telling him.” Tim jerked his head to where Bartholemew was using what was evidently intended as a holding cell to meditate in. 

“You’re -- no way. You’re not serious.” Kon shook his head. “They hate each other.”

“Yes but they hate each other like people who once meant something to each other. I think he still does,” Tim smiled except the smile was bitter, not happy at all. “At least I’m not the only one of us with a screwed up love life.”

Kon swallowed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I --”

“It’s all right, Kon. I wasn’t going to tell you because I’m fine with it, really, and being friends with you -- that’s enough. It doesn’t all have to be tears and angst and day-time TV specials.” Tim patted his shoulder. “This started with me knowing I didn’t have a chance and well -- nothing’s changed, has it?”

“I’m sorry --”

“Don’t be. Look, Kon -- you’re not that impossible to get over. I’ll be fine.”

“We won’t end up sniping at each other like Goth-boy and the Priest there?” Kon shuddered. “Man, that is weird.”

“I promise,” Tim said with a smile and Kon hugged him. Tim didn’t try to move away and Kon knew this had been the right thing to do. 

“So what now?” 

“Now?” Tim shrugged. “I’m going to take a nap. Wake me when we get to Themiscyra, yeah?”

Kon nodded. “Sure thing.”


	3. Chapter 3

Kon had played Word Association with Goth-Robin until he got sick of losing and wandered to the back of the Jet to look at the book of prophecy again. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but he must have, because he didn’t remember Tim and Bartholemew talking philosophy.

“ -- all wrong,” Bartholemew was saying, and somewhere along the way he’d changed out of the robes into what was probably the Goth-Robin’s spare clothes, a battered pair of jeans and a skull and bones t-shirt that wouldn’t have looked out of place on their Bart but was completely wrong on this one. With the shaved head, he looked like a cancer patient, and Kon frowned sleepily, trying to imagine what their Bart would have to say about it all. 

“Wally never claimed to be a god,” Bartholemew continued earnestly. “He’s just -- well he’s acheived a state of spiritual understanding and resonance with the Speed-Force equal to Nirvana, you know? In the buddhist faith, it would make him equal to a Bodhisattvas, except that state is usually acheived after death --”

“Aren’t those who do acheive it believed to become deitities?” Tim asked, and he sounded actually interested.

“That’s what I mean. There aren’t words yet to describe what’s happened to Wally. Or maybe they are, and we just misunderstand them. Like reincarnation.” Bartholemew waved his hands and Kon sat up, yawning sleepily as he listened. “I’ve only been to the Speed-Force once -- not actually in it -- but it felt so good. Like everyone I ever knew was there and they were waiting for me and so happy to see me --” He smiled at the memory and the joy, clear and naked on his face was almost disturbing. “Wally says that in the time he spent there he sensed other presences. Some he recognised, speedsters that have crossed over, like my Granddad and Max. Then there were others. Like . . . Wally’s pretty certain he met his daughter in there.”

“He has a daughter?” Kon asked, blearing running fingers through his hair and wondering what else he’d missed.

“No,” Bartholemew said. “Or at least not yet. But he thinks there are others in the Speed-Force who haven’t happened yet -- although everyone in there is one which makes it hard to tell for certain. But that’s why we need the monks. They have the philosophy to explain what’s happening to us, and they think that we can help them. That we’re what they’re looking for.”

“Speed-force monks?” Kon snorted. “Get out of town.”

Bartholemew frowned at him. “It’s well documented that many monks have, through fasting and development of their will and mental abilities, performed feats well above the possibilities of common man --”

“And that’s why you live in the monastery?” Tim asked. “What’s that like?”

“Nice, I guess. I mean it’s quiet and peaceful, and the monks are okay. In a ‘the simplicity of life is its own reward’ kind of way.” Bartholemew ruminated. “And on festivals we’re allowed to walk over to the next town and there are processions and music and cakes and stuff. So it’s not like it’s quiet all the time.”

“Brat,” Goth-Robin called back from the cock-pit. “You can say you’re bored to tears. No one’s listening in.”

“I am not going out of my skull with boredom!” Bartholemew flared up immediately. “I happen to like the monks and the temple and everything! And I’m going to be like Wally one day so I have to know all this stuff and -- who cares what you say anyway!”

Before anyone could blink he’d shut himself in the holding cell again. 

“Dude,” said Kon.

“Looks like you touched a nerve,” Tim said, going to look over the other Robin’s shoulder. 

Kon followed to lean in the doorway and caught the Goth-Robin’s shrug. 

“He doesn’t have to stay there. He could do anything he wants . . . but he acts like he has no choice but to stay there and let them do all his thinking for him.” Goth-Robin shrugged. “He makes me so mad.”

“It might not be that easy,” Tim said in that careful ‘avoiding stepping on wires’ way.

Goth-Robin snorted. “It never is.”

“He sounds lonely.”

“Look, you want to be his friend, go ahead. I lost patience with him a long time ago.” Goth-Robin stretched pointedly. “I’ve got a jet to fly here.”

“I could take over for you, if you wanted,” Tim said diffidently. “The controls look the same.”

Goth-Robin hesitated, but only briefly. “Sure you can handle it?”

“I know I can.” 

“Well, all right then.” The robins swtiched places and Goth-Robin thumped Tim on the back. “I’m going to nap in the back. Wake me if you need anything or if Nightwing tries to contact us. If he sees you I may have to kill myself.” 

“You have a Nightwing too?” Kon raised an eyebrow. “You Bat-types are so predictable. In another universe you’d think it’d be . . . Wingnight or something.”

“I’m guessing Kon didn’t name himself,” Goth-Robin said and Tim smirked. 

“Superboy didn’t make the Titans for his mind, that’s for sure.”

“Hey,” Kon nudged him with his foot. “I’m right here.”

“So, your Nightwing -- he and Bruce fight a lot?” Tim asked.

“All the time. It’s like . . . it’s not Friday at the Bat-Cave without one of them storming off to sulk.” Goth-Robin shrugged. “Yet despite all that, Nightwing chose to live in Outer Gotham. I mean, who does he think he’s fooling?”

“Ours made it as far as Bludhaven.”

“Hah!” Goth-Robin smirked. “I have to tell Jason that.”

Tim froze. “Jason?”

“Well, yeah. Nightwing?”

“Jason’s dead.”

They were doing the weird ‘we’re going to freak out now, but let’s be nice and calm about it thing’ again. Brittle and polite, using complete punctuation in their silences. 

“Richard’s dead. He was the first --”

“Jason. Blown up by the Joker.”

“Eaten by the Penguin.”

“Hell,” said Tim and then “Eaten?”

They stared at eachother a long moment doing the very wrong twin thing again. 

“I don’t think --” Tim started and Goth-Robin spoke. 

“If Nightwing --”

“And I thought that stuff with the Speed-Force was freaky,” Kon complained. “You guys beat any amount of lightning and possible disembodied speedster spirits hands down.”

Tim grimaced wryly. “We don’t do it to freak you out you know.”

“I guess we agree,” Goth-Robin said. “That letting Nightwing know about . . . this is a bad idea.”

Tim nodded. “If he opens a comm-link I’ll turn off visuals until we can get you in here.”

“Thanks. I’m going to bed now before you can tell me anything more freaky, like, I dunno, saying your version of Ivy is straight or he’s married to Catwoman or something.”

Tim smiled weakly. “Sounds good to me.”

“You want to tell me about it?” Kon asked when he judged a polite amount of time had gone by. “Or would you rather freak out in private?”

“What makes you think I’m freaking out?”

“He --” Kon jerked his head towards the back of the plane and Goth-Robin, “was visibly unsettled, which I think is a good indication that you are as well. Even if your steely mask of control is a lot better than his is.”

That got a wan smile at least. “Thanks Kon.” Tim paused and then added “You don’t seem to have the problem with him that you have with Bart. Their Bart I mean.”  
“  
“Yeah, I guess not. Maybe because you’re here as well. The other Bart -- kind of feels like he’s taken our Bart’s place, you know?”

Tim shrugged. “I suppose that makes sense.”

There was still something -- Kon narrowed his eyes. “You’re worried I like him better.”

“Of course not. This isn’t some -- who’s the better Robin contest. I don’t need to prove anything.”

“Course you don’t. You’re Tim. That other guy -- Timmy or whatever --” And Kon was glad to see that he got a smile at that. “He’s not you. Couldn’t be you. All that stuff with Young Justice and us? You can’t replace that.”

Tim thought a moment then nodded. “Thank you, Kon.”

“So you were worried?”

“No. At least not about that.” Tim shrugged. “We’re going to Themyscira. Land of the Amazons.”

“Isn’t it great?”

Tim sighed. “Please promise me -- no wrestling cracks, no lesbian jokes, and no boob comments. Otherwise, if the Amazons don’t decapitate you, I will.”

“Spoilsport,” Kon muttered. 

“Well excuse me for wanting to live through this.”

Kon scoffed. “Where’s your sense of adventure?” He paused thoughtfully. “What do you think the chances are of the Amazons eating normal food?”

“We’ve still got what the monks gave us.”

“Tim, I don’t know what’s in that but it’s probably healthy.” Kon drummed his fingers on the armrests of the co-pilots chair. “What say we park this jet and do a supermarket run?”

“What, just land the Bat-jet in a carpark somewhere?”

Kon shrugged. “We’ll be in and out in 5 minutes, I promise. Less than that if I can get Bartholemew to help me. Please Tim? Cut me some slack, I’m starving here.”

Tim sighed. “I suppose we could hover.”

\---

“What’s going on?” Goth-Robin demanded, stumbling out of the back room where he had been sleeping. “Why have we lost altitude?”

“Groceries, man!” Kon gave him a thumbs up. “We’re going to an island full of chicks, we need supplies.”

“You’re buying food, and that’s it!” Tim yelled from the pilot’s seat. “Don’t make me turn this jet around, Kon.”

“You’re letting him do this?” Goth-Robin crossed his arms. “Aren’t you supposed to be the responsible-twin?”

“He’s Superboy,” Tim said. “He’ll just fly down, pick up some snacks while we hover behind the cloud cover.”

“I’m going too!” Bartholemew said. “Kon said he could fly me.” He paused. “You are experienced with flying with passengers, right?”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Goth-Robin said. 

“Like what?” Kon scoffed. “I’m Superboy. I don’t need no stinkin’ parachute.”

“And what does Superboy do for cash?”

“Uh --” Kon dug in his pockets. “Does your world take Mastercard?”

“While your card might be a Universal constant, I’m guessing that as you don’t exist in this world, your account won’t either.” 

“You didn’t bring any money?” Kon asked Bartholemew who shook his bald head.

“We’re not big on material possessions, tying the soul to earthly concerns and that,” he said. “Besides --”

“Money is the root of all evil?”

Bartholemew pouted. “I was going to say that the robes aren’t exactly big on pockets.”

“Lucky for you guys I happen to have a working card and a full account.” Goth-Robin flashed his card. “Hope you got room for two, Superboy.”

“No problem,” Kon said. “Tim, you want to hit the doors?”

Tim did.

Kon surveyed the empty cabin critically. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“No one ever said I was,” Tim was smirking, Kon could tell. “You should probably go catch them or something.”

“Right.”

Goth-Robin seemed very glad to be grabbed by Kon, but Bartholemew’s eyes were shining and he couldn’t stop grinning. “That was cool! Canwedothatagainplease?”

He was so happy, Kon didn’t want to say no. “Sure,” he said, and dropped them. It was nice to know that even in this messed up Universe, Bart was still an adrenaline junkie. 

Goth-Robin did not appear quite so pleased. “I am never ever flying with you again,” he said, sitting on the steps outside the supermarket, as Bartholemew sat next to him rubbing his back and Kon shuffled penitently. 

“The trip back will be better, I promise.”

“Not you, Superboy. I’m talking about the midget with the deathwish, here.” He glared. “If you’ve widened your religious outlook to include suicide, the least you could do is warn others.”

“You’re feeling better. Good.” Bartholemew withdrew his hand. “Let’s go shopping, shall we?”

Shopping was a surreal experience to say the least. “See, where I come from Coke is like the Superman of colas, and Pepsi’s like, the Captain Marvel --”

“So what, a Rum and Pepsi in your world is a Rum and Cola? That’s just weird,” Goth-Robin said, putting a bottle of Daniel Jacks into their trolley.

Bartholemew took it out again. “We’re all underage, you know.”

“These places never card you. But fine, be a parent.”

Kon couldn’t imagine Tim ever trying something like that. “Mercury bars?” he said as they reached the snack food aisle. “Snackers?”

“We’re going to be here forever if you have to stop to read every label.”

“Sorry, it’s just --” Kon shrugged and picked up a packet. “Pork jerky? Well I’ll try anything once --”

“No meat.” Goth-Robin jerked his head down the aisle to where Bartholemew was agonising over which packet of chocolate biscuits to choose. “He’s . . . sensitive.”

“Right,” Kon took a packet of salted peanuts instead.

Bartholemew joined them, happily cradling six packets of biscuits, shaving cream and a razor. “Does the Bat-jet have a fridge? Can we get ice-cream?”

“Fridge is used for dna samples mostly,” Goth-Robin said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not eating anything that’s been kept in it.”

Kon was trying to remember if he’d ever seen their Bart shave. It was hard to tell if he’d even hit puberty. “Since when do you need a razor?” he asked. 

Bartholemew pointed to his head. “I’ll be fuzzy in the morning.”

“And what a tragedy that’d be.”

Bartholemew stuck his tongue out at Goth-Robin in a very-Bart gesture. “We don’t know how long this trip will take,” he said. “I’m going to get some toothpaste. Oh, and since you and other-Robin will be taking turns to fly tonight, some caffeine will probably be in order.”

“None of that instant crap,” Goth-Robin said. 

“On that we agree,” Bartholemew said fervently. “Instant, hah!”

Kon hid a smile behind a box of cereal. It wasn’t often that these two agreed on anything but when they did . . . “Dude. What’s the Frosted Flakes Tiger doing on the Fruit Loops packet?”

“Well, what’s on your Fruit Loops packets?” Bartholemew had returned, and started packing the coffee away. “A monkey?”

“A toucan.” Kon looked at the items Bartholemew had just placed in the cart. “Soy milk?”

“Well, yeah. Robin -- you know -- lactose intolerant?” Bartholemew paused. “Yours isn’t?”

“I don’t think so. Gimme a sec.” Their Titans communicators still worked. “Yo. Tim?”

“You’re ready to be picked up?”

“Not yet. We have a question. You lactose intolerant?”

“No.”

“Huh,” said Kon and hung up. “He’s not.”

“Weird.”

“Should we get some proper milk?”

Bartholemew shrugged. “Can’t hurt,” and he was gone again.

“Think we got enough snacks?” Goth-Robin rejoined them, with a healthy pile of corn chips and salsa. 

“That should do us until Themyscira,” Kon agreed. “Or at least keep Bart -- Bartholemew -- happy for an hour or so.”

Goth-Robin gave him an odd look, shaking his head as he pushed the trolley towards the counter. “I can’t even imagine what your Bart is like,” he said. “You get on?”

“Yeah. The three of us -- and Cassie -- which makes the four of us, I guess, we’re tight. Always have been.”

“Sounds nice,” Goth-Robin said and he sounded wistful. Until he added “In a Brady-bunch meets afterschool special kind of way.”


	4. Chapter 4

As promised, the trip back to the jet was much less eventful. 

Goth-Robin re-spiked his hair -- apparently he kept a supply of emergency gel in the Bat-jet -- as Kon crunched a packet of chips and Bartholemew told Tim all about flying excitedly and in great detail. Tim was doing his usual projecting adult-vibes thing. 

“Speaking of flying,” Tim said, once Bartholemew was done. “We’re not going to get to Themyscira before morning. Bart raised a good point earlier --”

“Hold the phone,” Goth-Robin demanded. “What did you say?”

Bartholemew pouted. “I do have good ideas, you know.”

“Before that,” Goth-Robin said, eyes narrowed. 

“You called him ‘Bart,’” Kon accused. 

“So? I don’t mind,” Bartholemew said. 

“Bartholemew is a mouthful,” Tim shrugged. “Anyway --”

“He’s not our Bart --” Kon said at the same time that Goth-Robin spoke. 

“If anyone gets to call him Bart, it should be me.”

“I don’t really think that’s your decision,” Bartholemew glared at Goth-Robin. “Tim can call me whatever he wants as long as it isn’t brat --”

“Tim?” Kon and Goth-Robin demanded indignantly. 

Tim sighed. “Look, what do you want it to be?”

He had a point. Kon shrugged. “You can’t both be Robin, but you can’t both be Tim either --”

“I’m Robin in this world,” Goth-Robin pointed out. “If one of us is going to be Robin it should be me.”

“I can’t call you Robin,” Kon said. “It’d just be too weird.”

“So I’ll be Robin, you be Tim?”

Kon hesitated. That was even more wrong somehow. Tim was -- Tim knew about the Luthor stuff. He was the one that told Kon when he was being stupid and cowardly and knew all the things Kon would never admit to being afraid of. Much as he liked Goth-Robin, he could never be Tim. 

“No way am I letting you be Robin.”

“Likewise. I’m not happy about giving up Tim either.”

“One of you could be Alvin Draper?” Kon suggested. “Or, I know. T1 and T2. Like Bananas in Pyjamas --”

“Yes!” said Bartholemew.

“No way in hell,” said both Robins. 

“I guess we’ll have to vote on it,” Bartholemew suggested. “All in favour of calling this Tim ‘Tim’?”

It was hard to think of calling him anything else, and Kon raised his hand. 

Goth-Robin scowled at them all. “Three to one. Can’t argue with that.” He looked at Kon. “Thought you were with me.”

Kon shrugged. “Sorry. I’m so used to thinking of him as Tim. It’d just be too weird.”

“So what do we call you?” Bartholemew asked. 

“Suggest Timmy and I’ll kick your holy butt,” Goth-Robin said. 

“Robin?” Kon suggested. “Rob?”

“Rob’ll do. Either of you got a problem with that?”

Tim seemed to be having difficultly keeping a straight face. “None at all.”

“Good. That just leaves what we’re going to call the Brat here.”

“I’m fine with Bart --”

“No.” Kon and Rob were definite on that. 

“Bartholemew doesn’t really shorten to anything else,” Rob mused. 

“There’s always Barry --” Tim shook his head as he thought about it. “I guess not.”

Kon studied the not-Bart’s bare skull thoughtfully. “Egghead?”

“I don’t think anyone related to Luthor should be making bald cracks,” Tim said. 

“Luthor?” Bartholemew said confused. 

“In their world he’s got no hair,” Rob explained. “Hey, I got it. HP?”

“HP?”

“For High Priest,” Tim said. 

“No way,” Bartholemew said. “I don’t want to be some anacronym.”

“Then I guess it’s Bartholemew until we have a better idea,” Tim said with authority. “Now, as I was saying before we got side-tracked, Bartholemew’s suggestion of taking shifts to pilot the Bat-jet is a good one. There’s only enough room in the back for two of us to sleep at a time and --”

“So we pair up?” Rob frowned. “Who goes with who?”

Tim shrugged. “One of us has to be at the wheel at all times,” he said. “And since Bartholemew’s already in the co-pilot’s seat --”

“That’s fine by me,” Bartholemew said. 

It made sense, Kon could see that. Someone from this world in each pair, and Rob and Bartholemew did not get on at all. All the same --

Tim was entirely too comfortable with the arrangement for Kon’s peace of mind.

“Mind if I eat something?” He asked Rob as the other teen pulled two fold down beds out of the Bat-jet wall. They were ready made, white sheeted with the air of hospital beds -- the Bat-jet probably doubled as an emergency first-aid centre. “I don’t really feel tired.”

“Me either,” Rob shrugged, slumping onto one of the beds. “This,” he said after some thought, “is fucked.” He raised himself up slightly to look at Kon. “In your world, your Robin and Speed-brat, are they close?”

“Yeah, but not this close.” Kon opened a packet of cookies. “Bart’s . . . well, he’s not as bad as he used to be but you can’t really have a conversation with him, you know? Not unless you want to end up talking something completely different to what you started on. It’s like trying to play ping-pong with someone who thinks you’re playing pool --” He sighed. “Didn’t realise how much I actually missed the brat.”

“Huh.” 

“You said you didn’t care if they became friends,” Kon reminded him.

“Yeah, but I didn’t expect them to get on so well. I kind of . . . well, I thought the brat would have more loyalty. I’ve known him longer after all.”

Accustomed as Kon was to reading between Robin’s lines, he would not have got this if it hadn’t been for the earlier conversation with Tim. As it was he hid a grin. So they were both worried about being replaced? Must be a Robin thing. “It’s no big deal. I know my Tim’s freaked out by how well we get on.”

“Yeah?” Rob smirked briefly. “Well that’s something.”

Kon offered him the packet of cookies. “It’s probably the novelty of hearing Bart use big words and that,” he said. “Ours is kind of spacey.”

Rob snorted, taking a cookie. “I know about Alternate Universes and everything, at least in theory,” he said. “But it never occurred to me there’d another Bartholemew. I just can’t picture it somehow.”

“What happened between you guys anyway?” Kon asked.

“Nothing.”

“No, seriously, man. Who am I going to tell?” Kon shrugged. “Me and Tim are just here until we find a way to get back to our world.”

“It’s still none of your business,” Rob rolled over. “Forget it, Kon.”

“And I thought you were the friendly Robin.”

“Hey!” Rob sat up, gesturing to his leather outfit and stomping boots. “Does this say friendly to you? I spend a lot of effort looking this unapproachable.”

“If that’s the look you’re going for, you may want to reconsider the mesh. Kind of gives the wrong impression, you know?” Kon hid a smile. “I do like the piercings, however.”

“Yeah?” Rob smiled a lazy, confident smile and leaned over to tug Kon’s ear. “I see you’re a fellow enthusiast. Or were.”

Kon shrugged. “Got sick of the comments.” He said. “And the leather jacket was so 90s --”

“Hey! Leather is a way of life.”

Kon snickered. To think he’d be having this conversation with a Robin -- not his Robin, but even so -- “Yeah, but it doesn’t seem like a practical way of life for a superhero,” he said, placing his palm on Rob’s leg, feeling the leather smooth beneath his fingers. “How do you move in this stuff?”

“I’ve had practice. Anyway, I’m not so much a combat Robin as your model seems to be. I’m more a lurk in the shadows type.”

“Did you mean that to sound so kinky? Cause I always knew you Bats were voyeurs but I didn’t think you were so open about it --”

“You think about us?” Rob’s grin was . . . yeah, definitely teasing. “Clone of the ultimate boy-scout isn’t so pure then?”

“Didn’t you hear? I’m the improved version,” Kon couldn’t believe this. He was flirting with a Robin. Not his Robin but --

“Now with 50% more evil?”

He was teasing. He knew that he didn’t mean it . . . Kon shrugged, pulling his hand away. “Something like that.”

Rob watched him a moment, playing with his lip ring. “Didn’t you hear, Kon? Bad guys have more fun.”

“Yeah? I thought it was blondes.” 

“Maybe in your twisted Universe.”

“Really? What is it in yours? Brunettes have more fun?”

Rob laughed. “Blondes,” he admitted, shifting so he was now lying on his side, one arm draped over his hip. “I was pulling your leg.”

Kon snorted. “Tease,” he said, raising an eyebrow to take in the other’s pose as much as his words.

Rob grinned. “You know it.”

“Is there anyone who doesn’t?”

Kon jumped. Bart could never have moved so quietly. “We were --” he started, trying hastily to think of something to say. “It wasn’t --”

Bartholemew’s expression was unsurprised. It was completely un-Bart-like which threw Kon more than anything else. He could talk to Bart, but he didn’t know what to say to this stranger -- 

“No explanations necessary,” Bartholemew said, crossing to the coffee machine -- Steely and black and with a bat-logo on the side. “You forget, I know Robin.”

“You sound almost jealous,” Rob said making a show of stretching and Kon couldn’t help but wince, feeling that had to be entirely the wrong way to go about this --

“Hardly.” And Kon was caught completely off-guard by the composure in that statement. Bartholemew didn’t sound angry. He sounded amused. “I’m celibate, not stupid, Timothy. You’re bored, he has a girlfriend and is humouring you.” He picked up the two full cups of coffee. “Besides, I don’t think either of you want to explain that sort of thing to Tim and there’s no way he could fail to work it out.” He swung the cockpit door open. “Coffee, Tim. Where do you want it?”

Kon said nothing until the cockpit door clicked shut. “Ouch.”

Rob’s face was set and angry, and Kon winced. He’d never seen Tim that mad and if this Robin was anything like his then he did not appreciate his humiliation being made public. Casting around for a way to lighten the situation, Kon said the first thing that came into his mind.

“So, celibate?”

“How many monks do you know who marry?” 

Bitter. Right. “Don’t know that many monks,” Kon shrugged, with what hoped was casualness. “I’m surprised though -- our Bart probably doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘celibate.’”

“You’re not saying he’s promiscuous, are you? Because I won’t believe you.”

“Bart’s . . . just not exactly intellectual. He’s still kind of . . . well, I think he had a girlfriend once but it doesn’t seem like he’s quite got the point of girls yet.”

“Hah,” said Rob. 

“You want to go to sleep now? It is getting kind of late.”

“May as well. Don’t want to fall asleep on our shift.” Rob settled down. “Night.”

The silence was forced and they both knew it.

\---

Kon opened his eyes to faded grey light and Tim climbing out of the bed next to his. 

“Hey, Kon. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. I was just -- wait. When did it get light? Our shift --”

“Rob insisted we shouldn’t wake you. Said he could handle it on his own.”

“But --” Kon scrubbed his face with the back of his hand and tried to think. “Bartholemew. When’s he going to sleep?”

“He’s there,” Tim said, nodding towards the corner as he sorted through the shopping bags for something he considered breakfast-worthy. “Said he didn’t need sleep.”

Bartholemew was resting against the wall, sitting in a meditative pose. His face was calm, eyes shut, and Kon couldn’t tell if he had fallen asleep after all or was just very still. 

“Got caffeine?” he asked, keeping his voice low just in case.

“Here.” And he would have to see about getting a Superboy coffee machine when they got back home. 

“Now this -- this is good stuff. Stuff of life this is.”

Tim quirked his lips and sat down next to Kon with his own cup. “You’re a real fountain of infomation in the mornings.”

“You’re sarcastic. But you make good coffee so I’m willing to overlook your numerous faults. Coffee --”

By his second cup, Kon had regained some semblance of consciousness. 

“What did you guys talk about last night?”

“Hmm?” Tim looked mildly puzzled, digging into a box of cereal. “Oh, on our shift? Lots of things. You wouldn’t think it but he --” nod to Bartholemew, “makes a really good conversationalist.”

“Really.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kon sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Nothing. I mean -- well, you don’t talk to our Bart that much.”

Tim looked like he was about to protest that, then nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right. Not that you could have that sort of conversation with Bart -- not now anyway. Who knows? In a few years, this could be our Bart.”

Kon didn’t want to admit how much that thought unnerved him. “You really think so?”

“Well, not exactly. But I think the potential is there. We discussed this last night. It’s the old argument, nature versus nuture you know? Me and my double seem to have the same genetic make-up, and this Bart does as well -- but the influences are really quite different. And yet -- I think we’re all more alike than we want to admit.”

“Dude, I need a third cup of coffee before I even want to think about that.”

“Better make it quick, Kon,” Rob slid open the door that divided the cockpit from the back of the jet. “We have about half an hour before we land. I’m going to start the descent soon so you’d all better strap yourselves in.” He nudged Bart with his foot. “Wakey-wakey --”

“Not asleep, Max.” And lightning flared briefly around his eyes before disappearing as Bartholemew blinked sleepily at them. “Huh?”

Kon bit back an amused smile. “Good morning to you, too. You want breakfast before we have to buckle in?”

“Buckle in?” And disorientated and confused he was just like their Bart. Well, minus the hair of course.

“Beginning descent in ten minutes,” Rob confirmed. “You’ll have to hurry if you want to eat before we land --”

“Oh?” And the back room was buffetted by sudden sharp wind that subsided just as suddenly, leaving the beds made and tucked back into the walls, the groceries arranged neatly and in range of the passenger sheets. “What’s the rush?”

“Dude!” Kon said grabbing the coffee pot happily. “He even made coffee. Did you see that, Tim? He is a saint.”

Rob snorted, turning back to the pilot’s seat. “Tim, you want to co-pilot?”

“Of course.”

Kon cradled the coffee pot to himself as he and Bartholemew belted themselves into the passenger seats. “Not hungry?” he asked, noticing that the speedster hadn’t touched any of the groceries.

“Hmm? Oh, I don’t really feel like eating right now.”

“You get airsick?”

“Nothing like that. Just this odd feeling I can’t shake. Something’s wrong.”

“Like what?” Tim stuck his head around the door to look back at them.

“I’m not sure. It’s been here for awhile . . . I sense a disturbance in the Speed-Force -- what?” Bartholemew blinked as all three of them started snickering. “What’s so funny? Was it something I said?”

“Chill, Yoda,” Rob said, sounding very amused. “It’s probably just the fact that we’re in Themysciran airspace. Their gods probably cancel out your Speed-Force or something like that.”

Bartholemew didn’t look at all convinced. “Yoda?”

“Tell you about it when we land,” Kon promised.

\---

“Are you sure these are the co-ordinates?”

“Look, this is exactly where he said to be.”

“This doesn’t look like the right place.”

“So sue me! It’s a moving island, right? Maybe it moved since last night? You ever think of that, Mr ‘I could have flown the Bat-jet better --”

“I didn’t say that --”

“But you’re thinking it! I know you’re thinking it!”

The Robins were still arguing. Kon scratched his stomach and eyed the scenery balefully. The jet had set down in this flat stretch of stubby grass and scrub, bounded by hills. They couldn’t see anything in any direction, and both Robins had vetoed Bartholemew’s offer of a quick circuit round them to work out where they were. 

“I’m getting the oddest sensation of deja-vu,” he commented to Bartholemew. 

“Huh?”

“What is up with you?” Kon raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been out of it since we landed.”

“Sorry,” Bartholemew shrugged. “I just -- I know something is wrong. I just don’t know what.”

“You’re as fidgety as well -- our Bart.” Kon took a step towards him, stretching out a hand. “Hey, you feeling okay?”

“I -- Don’t touch me!” Kon took a bewildered step back at the yell. Bartholemew backed away hurriedly. “Get awa --”

And lightning exploded out of nowhere, engulfing everything in blistering light and energy.


	5. Chapter 5

“Kon! Kon -- you okay?”

Kon opened his eyes and squinted. Two Tims leant over him, their edges blurring together. “What -- when did you start dressing identically?”

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Shield took the worst of it,” Kon winced, sitting up. “Winded, but I think I’m fine. What happened?”

“Bolt of lightning missed you by a metre. Came out of nowhere.” The Tims blurred, only to solidfy into one of them -- and hey, that superpower had already been taken -- and that one shifted, giving Kon his first view of their surroundings. 

The ground was blistered, black and smoky, and around the edges a few embers still glowed. On the other side of the burnt circle, the other Robin was kneeling by Bartholemew.

Kon swallowed. “I remember -- It was -- Is he . . . ?” Even if he wasn’t Bart, he didn’t want anything to happen to him --

“I don’t know,” Tim said. “Everything just happened so quickly. It was -- it looked like the lightning hit him directly -- but he doesn’t seem burnt or anything --”

“Ow --”

“He’s waking up!” Rob reported, and the relief in his voice -- “He’s really -- carefully. Don’t push things --”

“Next time I take the bus,” Bartholemew said, his voice thick and groggy. He frowned, blinking at Rob, kneeling in front of him. “Wha --?”

“Easy,” Rob said, leaving an arm around the other’s shoulder to support him -- much as his Tim was doing to Kon. “Do you hurt? How many fingers am I holding --”

Bartholemew whooped and threw his arms around Rob enthusiastically. “Tim!” 

“He got better quick,” Kon said, squeezing Tim’s arm and standing carefully. A little push from his telekinesis ensured he didn’t topple over, and he was on his feet again, Tim watching him closely. “What I wouldn’t give for a speedster metabolism --”

His words caught Bartholemew’s attention. “Kon!” he grinned. “And Tim!” He scrambled to his feet ignoring Rob’s cautions. “I told everyone I could do it!” he said with no small amount of triumph. “I’d like to see Wally --” He paused. “Tim,” he said carefully. “Kon. Tim. One --” he pointed to Tim standing beside Kon, then turned carefully to Rob, whose arm was still around him. “Two --”

“Easy,” Rob told him. “You should probably sit down or something --”

Bartholemew would not be persuaded. “Two.” He said, pulling himself away from Rob. “One. Two.”

“Are you all right, man?” Kon asked, crossing to pat Bartholemew’s arm. “You didn’t hit your head when you fell or anything?”

“Kon,” Bartholemew said, latching onto him. “Why are there two Robins?”

“Uh -- what?”

“Robins. Two of them. And I think one of them is wearing make-up.”

“If I might make a hypothesis here,” Tim said carefully. “I think this is Bart. Our Bart,” he added meaningfully.

Kon swallowed. “Bart?” he demanded, looking at the boy in front of him. “Is it -- are you really you?”

The gold eyes that faced him gave him a ‘d’uh’ look. “Who else would I be, Kon?” he asked, wriggling free of Kon’s hold to give Rob another stare. “Does Batman know about this?”

“Ask him something only your Bart would know,” Rob said, and he’d gone very tense, studying the speedster with the same intensity as the speedster was watching him with. 

“Sure,” Kon said, trying to remember what they had or hadn’t told Rob and Bartholemew about their world. “Bart. Where do you go to school?”

Tim shook his head. “Bartholemew and I talked about our histories last night. Something different.”

“Okay, I got it.” Kon snapped his fingers in front of Bart to get his attention. “When the Quake happened in Gotham, and Tim was depressed and I told you to cheer him up -- do you remember what you did?”

“Sure,” Bartholemew shrugged. “I cheered him up, just like you said. Cake, juggling, cheer-leading --”

“Cheerleading?” Rob sounded faint.

“Bart!” Kon crushed him in a hug. “I’ve missed you man --”

“You’re squashing me --”

“Bart,” Tim said joining the pile. 

Bart gave up struggling and wrapped his arms around their shoulders. “You guys --” he said, and stopped. When he spoke again, his voice was suspiciously thick. “You just vanished! Freaky old guy wouldn’t tell us anything and when he did -- with the machine gone we didn’t know how to follow you. J’onn got the gist of it from his head but it was going to them years to build and you can’t stay in an alternate world for more than a few months without things warping --” his hands tightened around them. “Wally said it was too difficult for him to navigate through the Speed-Force and bring you back, that without his connection to Linda to guide him it was simply a matter of guessing -- But I knew I could find you! And I did!”

“How did you manage to do this?” Tim asked, but Bart was already wriggling free of the hug. 

“Alternate world,” he said, with another stare at Rob. “Alternate Robin. It makes sense. And there’s no Kon in this one which explains why the other-Luthor had to kidnap ours -- these aren’t my clothes.” He turned up the t-shirt curiously. “Cool though. This isn’t my body, is it?”

Kon shook his head. “Not that --”

“What’s going on?” Rob interrupted. “If you’re in there where’s my -- our Bartholemew?”

“I’m thinking,” Bart said. “Finding you was easy but I had to push really hard to get in here -- if there’s a Bart in this world, that would explain why I couldn’t bring myself in, I had to go fast enough that I was energy --”

“Where does this leave Bartholemew?” Rob had grabbed Bart by the arm. “Is he taking your place in your world --”

“Not possible,” Bart said flatly. “He’d have to be able to navigate through the Speed-Force to get there and he won’t know anyone there. Everything will be calling him back to this world.” He turned to look at Kon and Tim again. “I can’t stay long -- I’m not supposed to be here and it’s kind of tugging at me from the inside --”

“Will Bartholemew come back? Where is he now?” In an effort to keep Bart’s attention, Rob took him by his shoulders and pulled him into him. “He’s all right?”

Bart was evidently surprised to find himself being held by the Alternate Robin. His mouth hung open and he stared for a few second before he managed to answer. “He’s really close. Speed-Force -- if I concentrate I can --” Lightning crackled around him and he stepped back, startled. “Where did -- Did I do that?”

“Bart. Calm down.” Tim put his hand on Bart’s shoulder. “We need you to think.” He paused a moment. “When you re-enter the Speed-Force, Bartholemew will return, is that correct?”

“Yeah, I think so. I mean, he’s got nowhere else to go --”

“But isn’t the Speed-Force like heaven or something? What if he doesn’t want to come back?” Kon felt awful at bringing it up, especially at the stricken look on Rob’s face. 

“It’s not that part of the Speed-Force. That’s, like, the core. I’m not -- I can’t get there yet,” Bart said. “There’s barriers in the way. I bounce off. That’s how Max travelled through time, remember? It’s like that. It’s around the center part, in the bit where time starts to blur -- He’s there. Kind of outside time.” He patted Rob’s arm. “He’s okay,” he repeated. 

Rob was startled a moment then nodded. “Thanks.” He was watching Bart with an odd mix of apprehension and awe -- Kon could relate. It was weird enough hanging with two Robins, but to see their Bart in Bartholemew’s place -- he couldn’t even imagine what a head trip that was for Rob. “So, uh, we haven’t been properly introduced --”

“Kid Flash, but everyone calls me Bart.” Bart held out his hand. “I stop those two from going crazy,” he said jerking his head towards Tim and Kon, and Kon was amazed that even, bald as an egg, that movement, the entire gesture, said ‘Bart.’ 

“Robin,” Rob said taking the offered handshake. “I do my best to drive your counterpart crazy.”

Bart snickered. “That’s not nice.”

“Never said I was.”

“If we’ve taken care of the social necessities,” Tim said, placing his hand on Bart’s shoulder and Kon raised an eye-brow. By Robin standards Tim was being incredibly touchy-feely. “Maybe we should tell Bart what we’ve learned of the machine that brought us here.”

“Um, maybe Bart could get fed first?” Bart sounded apologetic, but his stomach growled. “Navigating different realities -- hard work on an empty stomach, you know.”

“Can’t you just leech energy from the all encompassing Speed-Force?” Rob shrugged. “You know, why should you be tied to the physical realities of food like the rest of us plebes?”

Bart gave him a look that plainly said he was being weird. “If it’s all the same to you,” he said. “I’d prefer a hamburger.” 

“A hamburger?” Rob laughed, and snaked his arm around Bart staring him towards the Bat-jet. “Where have you been all my life?”

Bart looked back over his shoulder, giving them a ‘help?’ look. Kon would have followed but Tim stopped him. 

“Kon, don’t say anything to alarm Bart but . . . I’m worried.” Tim frowned. “He got here by following us, right? What’s he going to use to get back?”

“Bart has other friends,” Kon pointed out. 

“Yes, but he’s known us the longest.”

“Hey, we don’t even spend that much time together anymore,” Kon patted Tim’s back. “Chill. He’s got tons of people. Like Jay and Joan and his friends from school. Wally’s probably out looking for him as well.”

“That’s true,” Tim said. “Don’t mention this to Bart, okay? If he starts doubting himself --”

“Small chance of that,” Kon said, glancing at the Bat-jet. “This is our Bart --” He frowned and threw open the Bat-jet doors. O-kay. Bart was happily making short work of their groceries, and Rob was watching him with an expression of mild horror. “Stupid defective X-ray vision,” Kon muttered, joining them in the cabin. “So, Bart. I was wondering.”

Bart stopped stuffing his face a second. “Yeah?”

“If you’re in Bartholemew’s body and he’s in the speed force then --”

“Where’s my body? I think I went so fast I became energy. It was pretty cool --” Bart frowned. “You think my clothes are like, floating round in the Speed-Force? That would suck because that’s like, my favourite t-shirt --”

“Shouldn’t you be wearing your Kid Flash suit to navigate the Speed-Force?” Tim asked, leaning in the doorway. 

“Wally took my suit away when he grounded me,” Bart shrugged. “Didn’t want me navigating the speed-force on my own. As if that would stop me.”

“You went without telling the others?” 

“I’m guessing they probably figured it out by now,” Bart frowned at the cookie he held. “Stupid Wally, didn’t even want to listen to me. If he doesn’t think he can do something of course there’s no way I could --”

“What are you going to do now?” Rob asked. 

“Thought I’d find you guys, see what the plan was,” Bart looked at Tim expectantly. “You know the machine was set to pull you guys back here, but not linked to our world, right? Other-Luthor figured that any world with a Kon would do, he wasn’t fussed.”

“This world’s Wally mentioned that we would need a guide back,” Tim said. “But at the moment, we’re trying to find a way to power the thing.”

Bart nodded. “Luthor refused to say anything about that. J’onn said he made some kind of alliance, with a god who wanted revenge on the ‘false godlings’ -- Kon, be careful, yeah? They’ll probably think you’re one of them.” He paused. “Is it cold in here?”

“Cold?”

“My ears are kinda chilly.”

Bart didn’t freak out as much as Kon could have hoped, but it was still entertaining. Finally, having eaten everything he could in the Batjet, Bart stood, wiping his hands on his jeans. “I should get going, tell everyone where you are,” he said. “Cassie’s been going out of her mind worrying about you two.”

“Say ‘hi’ to her, will you?” Kon said, patting him on the head. Bart nodded solemnly, then latched onto Tim. Kon raised an eyebrow at that. Yes, Bart was a hugging-person, but he usually respected Tim’s personal space. 

“Be careful,” Tim said, patting Bart’s shoulder. “Go straight home and don’t take any risks, okay?”

“Got it.” Bart bart drew back and looked at Rob. “Uh --”

“So --” Rob scratched the back of his head. 

Bart skitted about the cabin in short, uncertain bursts, before coming to a stop in front of him. “It was nice to meet you,” he said. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it was.” Rob stuck out his hand. “If you ever want to come back for a visit -- I mean, if that’s okay with Bartholemew and everything --”

Bart nodded, taking his hand. “Same with you, if you’re ever travelling alternate universes and want to hang out --”

Rob smirked. “Sounds like fun, Bart.”

“Cool. So, um --” Bart shuffled a little closer. “You could mention to Bartholemew that I grew out of the head-shaving stage years ago.”

“Anything else?” Rob was smooth and amused, and still touching their Bart -- Kon stepped forward, not really sure what he was going to do but Tim was ahead of him as usual. 

“You’d better get going. The longer you wait --”

“The more difficult it becomes. I know.” Bart let go of Rob, stretching as he led the way outside the Bat-jet. “I’ll be back to guide you guys home,” he promised, as he did a couple more stretches.

Kon leaned against the Bat-jet, trying to remember if he’d seen Bart prepare for a run before, and wondering whether this was one of the repercussions of the knee-thing, or a sign that this was a particularly difficult task.

Rob was similarly curious. “You still run?”

“It’s what I do.” Bart grinned, dropping into a sprinter’s crouch. “Catch you guys later.”

And then all that was left was the cloud of dust that was his wake. 

“Show off,” Kon said, wiping his t-shirt clean. “If he can negate a sonic-boom when he runs, surely he can --”

“He was probably concentrating on building up speed,” Tim said, shaking his cloak out. “He went twice around the island to gather the speed to cross the ocean, and he’s probably looking for a good solid landmass where he can accelerate.”

Rob shook his head. “I can’t believe how the same person can be so different. I thought you and me were twisted,” he said to Tim.

Kon wasn’t impressed. “You can’t do that sort of thing with our Bart,” he said folding his arms. “He’s young.”

“They’re exactly the same age --”

“You know what we mean,” Tim said, just as sharply. 

“Whatever. Did it occur to you two that he was just as interested? Maybe you don’t know your Bart as well as you think.” Rob glared at them. “Anyway, there’s a good chance I won’t ever see him again so --”

“In the case that you do, I strongly suggest that you keep your personal vendettas out of any contact with our friend,” Tim said. “I don’t really care why you and Bartholemew are fighting but when you drag Bart into it --”

“I didn’t drag him into anything,” Rob said. “So screw you.”

“Hey,” Kon said. “You guys cool it. Unless you want me to step in and be the mature one.”

“Spare us, Kon.” Tim folded his arms. “We should try and contact Batman, double check the co-ordinates --”

“There’s nothing wrong the co-ordinates! This is an Amazon island, right! We’re not Amazons. They probably want to --” Rob waved a hand impatiently. “Put us through quarantine or something.”

The harsh clink of metal intruded upon the edge of Kon’s attention. “Um, guys?” 

But the Robins were trying to stare each other down. 

“Why are you so insistent on being right? It’s not that hard to check -- or is it because I’m asking you?” Tim said with cool precision.

“Listen to yourself! Not everything is about you --”

“Really? And the reason you’re trying so hard to win Kon and Bart over?”

“Who’s trying?” Rob shrugged. “Face it, I’m the better --”

“Guys!” Kon gestured. “Um, we’ve got Amazons here. And I don’t think they’re here to quarantine us.”

As if to confirm Kon’s statement, the twenty or so armoured women drew their weapons. “You would be the god-killer?”

“Uh -- not so much --” Kon knew he was pretty much impervious to sword and spear, but it didn’t stop him from taking a step back. 

“You mean the prophecy?” Tim asked, drawing close to Kon in a defensive position. “That’s not our fault. It has nothing to do with Kon --”

“He was brought from another world to fulfill the prophecy, was he not?” A stern Amazon, with a bus-driver’s face, glared at them. “If you think that we will allow heathens such as you to tear down our gods --”

“The prophecy said ‘god’, singular,” Rob pointed out. 

This didn’t improve matters.

“Before you can set foot within our Temples, you must first best us in combat,” the woman said and the helmeted soldiers behind her fanned out, ready for a fight.

“This isn’t necessary,” Tim said. “We come seeking your help. We don’t wish to fight --”

“Says you,” Rob said, reaching for his utility belt. “What do you say, Kon? Me and him, first to take down five Amazons is the champ?”

“I don’t think --” Kon started.

“Then may the best Robin win,” Tim said and the next thing Kon knew, he was a blur of activity, charging at the nearest cluster of Amazons, bo-staff a silvery flash in his hand. 

“No fair! I didn’t say start --” Rob ducked under an attacking Amazon, hand on his own utility belt. A second later he was brandishing some kind of . . . well, it looked like one of the Bat’s grappling hooks, only weighted and the way he swung it -- almost like a lasso, as he used it to grab his opponent’s foot, sending her face down into the dirt. He ducked out of the way of the next attack too, keeping careful distance between himself and the Amazons. 

He did say he avoided direct contact, Kon thought with a shrug and then his view was blocked as he was jumped by three Amazons simultaneously. 

“Ladies,” he sighed and used his Telekinesis to push. “Not that I’m not enjoying this, but even I wait for introductions, you know?” The Amazons were thrown back solidly.

“Hey! Watch it, Kon -- getting a little close there --” Rob protested, stumbling as one of the projectile Amazons crashed into him. Tim, more used to Kon’s opponents careening past him, dodged easily, ducking under a falling warrior to take down one of her concerned team mates with a well placed kick. 

“Since when do you wait to be introduced?” he said, readying himself for the next. “Three.”

“That was not three!” Rob freed his weapon, rejoining the fray. “That was one of mine --”

“She got up again, she’s one of mine.”

Kon knocked the Amazons charging him aside easily, floating above the fight. “Do I even want to be involved in this? Maybe you guys can call me when you’re done --” And then he was slammed into the ground by a force that took him completely by surprise.

Kon coughed dirt, and levered himself up on one elbow. “I know that punch --” 

A shapely pair of legs hovered just at the corner of his vision. “Do us a favour, god-destroyer,” their owner said, arms folded against her armour plated chest. “Don’t underestimate us.”

“Cassie!” Kon grinned, and launched himself into the air. “Am I glad to see you -- woah -- easy with those punches --” he ducked her attack, drawing above her. “What, no ‘hey, Kon, nice to see you too’?”

“What are you talking about?” She swung at him, chasing him into the air. “How do you know my name?”

“Earth to Kon! This isn’t our Cassie -- Alternate World, remember?” Tim was thrown back, but rolled, barely pausing for a second before re-entering the fight. He used his bo-staff to add to his momentum, pole-vaulting himself over the cluster of attacking women. “Knock her out!” he ordered, crashing into the Bus-driver Amazon.

“I can’t do that! It’s Cassie, man!” Kon continued to dodge, using his telekinesis as a shield.

“How do you know my name?” Alternate-Cassie demanded. She slammed into Kon’s shield with enough violence that he winced. “You haven’t even seen my face --”

“I don’t need to,” Kon said. “Cassie -- I’d know you anywhere.”

She came to a bewildered pause, lowering her hands. “What -- what’s that supposed to mean?”

Kon swallowed. “You -- I --”

“For crying out loud --” Rob tugged, trying to free his weapon from the Amazon who had seized hold of it. “Kon! In this world she’s not your girlfriend! Beat her up!”

Alternate-Cassie looked from the two Robins back to Kon. “You and the cute-Robin are from another world?”

“Yeah, just like we said.” Kon shrugged, watching as Tim took a blow to the chest and disappeared in a tangle of armoured Amazons. A second later, the whole tangle exploded into smoke and Tim rolled free minus his cloak. “I should probably fight you or something.”

“Probably.” Alternate-Cassie paused and took her helmet off. “Before we do . . . in your world -- we’re together?”

“Your hair!” Kon put his hand out to touch then stopped at the look she gave him. “I mean, I’m just surprised. It’s short and . . . it looks good. You look kinda . . . pixie-ish. But still hot.”

“Uh . . . thanks. So . . . you’re called Kon?”

“Yo, Superboy! You want to quit flirting and give us some help here?” Rob interjected, dodging two Amazons, trying to keep to the edge of the fight.

“Most people call me Superboy, but you can call me Kon. I mean . . . um.” Kon ran his fingers through his hair. “Shit, this is weird.”

“Wondergirl! Stop fraternising with the enemy and do your job!”

“Just so you know -- I’m not going to go easy on you,” Cassie said, drawing herself into a fighting position.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Kon said, preparing for her attack. 

She still moved like Cassie, swung like Cassie -- faster and more focused than his Cassie, but Kon knew her style, her fighting strengths and it was easy to dodge the first blow, block the second and pull her off-kilter with his telekinesis, leaving her open for him to --

She saw it coming, not in enough time to dodge and winced, arm coming up reflexively to shield herself.

“Shit,” Kon said, and dropped his hand. “I can’t do this.”

Cassie blinked, realising the blow wasn’t coming. “Wha -- ?”

“I give up. Surrender. Whatever.” Kon held up his hands. “You win.”

“But -- you can’t surrender. I mean --” Cassie looked confused. “We haven’t even started yet.”

“Listen to the girl, Kon! Ow --”

“Is it because I’m a girl?” Cassie raised a fist menacingly. “If it is, I’m going to beat you into the ground you sorry excuse for a --”

“Woah, easy! It’s not because you’re a girl!” Kon hastily backed away. “Believe me, I have no problem with throwing your team-mates there around. It’s because you’re . . . you.”

“But I’m not your you. I mean, your me.” Cassie put her hands on her hips.

Kon shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. You’re still Cassie.”

She studied him thoughtfully. “You’re dumb -- but kind of sweet,” she said at last.

“Hear that all the time.”

“So, what do you want to do about them?” Cassie said with a shrug towards the ongoing fight.

“Don’t know,” Kon admitted. “It seems to be slowing down now. Maybe they’re almost finished.” He floated to the ground.

Tim landed beside him a second later. “You’re serious about surrendering?” he asked, ducking under Kon’s arm, then using him as leverage to score a kick off an approaching warrior. 

“Yeah. I mean, these aren’t our enemies. We shouldn’t be fighting,” Kon said, watching Cassie. Had it really only been two days? He missed her so much --

“If you say so.” Tim folded his staff away in his belt and held up his hands. “We don’t wish to continue this battle.”

“You guys aren’t serious!” Rob’s indignant protest came from beneath two Amazon soldiers intent on pinning him to the ground. “We can so kick their butts -- you’re both wimps -- if I could just get free --”

Kon looked at Tim who was wearing an expression that said ‘Smirking? Me?’ “You won, huh?”

“It wasn’t a competition,” Tim said, face carefully composed. 

“Let him go,” Cassie ordered. “They have surrendered.”

“And let the god-killer tear down our gods?” Bus-driver lady was not impressed. 

“Would a true being of darkness chose to end a fight peacefully?” Cassie said gesturing to Kon. “You heard him. He has great strength, yet he refused to use it needlessly. That is the mark of an honourable soul.”

“Or a completely infatuated ninny -- ow --”

“You wish to bring them to the Temple? Fine.” The grumpy Amazon waved a hand, and her soliders picked themselves up, forming a guard around Tim and Kon and the newly freed Rob. “On your own head be it, Cassandra.”

Cassandra nodded. “I shall go ahead and let Wonderwoman know of these events,” she said, flying ahead.

Kon and Tim watched her go wordlessly. 

“Uh,” Kon said.

“Yeah,” Tim said quietly, shaking out his cloak and falling into step beside Kon as the grumpy Amazon gave the order to march. “You should tell her. You’re her boyfriend.”

“No way!” Kon protested in a muted undertone. “I’m not telling her -- you’re her friend. Something like this should come from you.”

Rob limped over to join them. “I can’t believe you losers -- I totally had those two pinned, and you go and surrender.”

Kon snorted. “Sure you did -- if pinned in this Universe means getting your butt kicked.”

“Hey! I was in complete control of the situation. You better not think this proves anything, Tim --” Rob gestured angrily. “Open combat isn’t my speciality. I’m more a lurking in shadows and sniping kind of guy --”

“It shows,” Tim said.

“What’s that supposed to mean? You think you won?”

“Hey, chill!” Kon put himself between the Robins. “This isn’t the time for us to be arguing, guys --”

“Yeah, whatever.” Rob crossed his arms over his chest angrily. “So, one of you had better tell your girlfriend that flying in that short a skirt is not a good idea.”


	6. Chapter 6

Kon had expected Themyscira to look Greek. Marble columns and pleated toga-dresses? He could dig that. 

He hadn’t expected the entire city to feel like one of Tim’s lectures on the evils of objectifying women. By the time they reached the Central Temple he was ready to leave. There was just something about the place that made him feel like he was intruding on sacred ground, like interrupting one of Cassie’s sleepovers --

“Robin. Travellers from another world. Welcome.” Diana met them at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the Temple, grand and beautiful as usual. “We apologise for the manner of your arrival. Some of my sisters apparently misunderstood my directions.”

“Sure,” Kon said with a shrug. “No problem.” Because what was getting pounded into the ground compared to that smile?

“Allow us to make up for our previous inhospitality,” Diana said, dismissing the guard with a wave of her hand and leading them up the stairs. “We have prepared a meal and your friend waits.”

“Our friend?” Tim asked, elbowing Kon as he passed him. “Stop staring,” he hissed. “You’re embarrassing me, Kon.”

Kon opened his mouth to defend himself, but Rob brushed past him on his other side. “Hey, nothing wrong with admiring the view.”

“I wasn’t -- ah, forget it.” Kon followed the others up to the Temple.

“Yes, your companion representing the Speed-Force arrived not long ago.” Diana reached the top of the stairs, where a row of white-robed women waited. “We’ve prepared a meal for you, while we wait for the Justice League to join us,” she explained, motioning for them to follow the women. 

“Wait -- the Justice League is coming here?”

Diana nodded. “Your friend arrived with infomation that suggested one of our gods had broken their promise to remain aloof from the affairs of your world. This is a serious matter that the Justice League has been made aware of.”

“Did he say which god?” Tim asked.

“No, but the manner in which you were met suggests that this god delights in tricks and conflict. This would not be the first time Eris has played with mortals for her own amusement.” Diana paused at the start of a corridor. “I must go, consult with our priestesses but I fear you must prepare yourselves for dire news, young men. We have given the device that brought you here to our seers. They are still examining it but they fear that it is not lack of power that prevents it from allowing you to travel between worlds, but that it is tied to the prophecy that originally brought you here.”

“So, what are you saying?” Kon demanded. “I’m not -- I don’t want to --”

“And the coming of the son of the golden one shall bring both joy and sorrow to thee, for though he be the heir of the house of light, equally he is the son of darkness, and he shall bring a god to his knees.” Diana paused. “I am sorry for your plight, Kon, but I do not intend to let you harm either my friends or my gods.”

And when Wonderwoman said something like that to you, she meant it. “Yes Ma’am,” Kon said, hoping fervently it wouldn’t come to that. He had absolutely no doubt that she would not hesitate to take him out should she deem it necessary.

“I shall join you later. Please relax and enjoy our hospitality.” Diana nodded and left them. 

As one the women turned and proceeded down the hallway. 

“Guess we follow,” Tim said and led the way. 

The passage was dark, torches placed along it at even intervals, illuminating massive marble statues of the Greek Gods and Goddesses. Zeus, Ares, Athena -- Kon couldn’t help but feel very small. These gods lived on Themyscira. What was to stop one of them deciding to take him out pre-emptively?

For that matter, how was Kon supposed to defeat a god?

“I don’t like this. First the Amazons attack us, now they’re feeding us?” Rob whispered, his voice low as they took a side corridor deeper into the Temple. 

“You heard what Wonderwoman said,” Kon shrugged, and then they rounded a corner to an open courtyard and the only thing he could say was “Holy --”

It wasn’t just that the courtyard was framed by marble so pure that in the sunlight the entire building seemed to shine golden. It wasn’t the air, thick with the scent of the flowers that grew in the courtyard, or the channels of running water, so clear and fresh they shone like the sky above. It was the statues, so perfectly formed they seemed that they might step into life at any second, and what life --

“Wow,” Rob said. “Is Amazon a religion? Cause I want to convert --”

“You said it,” Kon said, staring. “Wouldn’t mind bringing one of these goddesses to her knees --”

“I don’t know either of you,” Tim said, darkly. “We are in a temple. Remember that.”

There was a flash of red and yellow at the other end of the courtyard, and they spotted Bartholemew, dressed in his buddhist robes, standing with Cassandra. 

“Over here!” she called, waving to them. “Everything is ready.” A table had been set out, laid with apples and freshly prepared cakes. Kon couldn’t be happier to see either Cassandra, or the food. 

“What took you so long?” Bartholemew asked as the others joined them. “We’ve been waiting ages.”

“We can’t all be super fast,” Kon said, snagging an apple. “For that matter, where were you? We could have used you back at the jet.”

“I heard about that. I disdain pointless violence, remember? As it happens I regained consciousness somewhere in the Gobi desert, starving of hunger and completely exhausted from my time in the Speed-Force, at which point I decided to return to the monastery. It took me at least ten minutes to get rid of all the sand -- is this amusing to you, Rob?”

“Bartholemew,” Rob said, grinning. “You’re back. You’re really --” He stretched out a hand. “It’s really good to see you --”

“The feeling is not mutual.” The monk folded his arms, stepping out of the touch. “If I didn’t seek to rid myself entirely of negative emotions such as anger, I would be seriously pissed off. As it happens, I don’t want to speak to any of you.”

“But -- why -- what did we do?”

“If you thought about it you’d know,” Bartholemew turned up his nose, then thought better of it. “Cassandra, I’m sorry to bring a personal greivance into the sanctity of this place --”

“Think nothing of it,” Cassandra said. She’d changed out of her armour into the white robes the temple assistants wore. It looked kind of odd with her boyishly short haircut, but cute, Kon decided. Definitely very cute. “It sounds like its been very difficult for you all.”

“It’s certainly been an experience,” Tim said carefully. “Bartholemew, we’re sorry. We didn’t mean to make you angry. Being taken from our world, well it’s not easy and we’re new here, so if we have offended--”

“Save it,” the monk said curtly. “Until you’ve been ripped from your body and thrown randomly into the Speed-Force, while your so-called allies sat around and talked, I don’t want to hear another word on the matter from you -- and especially not you.” He stabbed a finger towards Rob. “I’m going to take a walk to clear my head.”

Kon looked at Tim and Rob. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t care what you guys do, but I’m going after him,” Rob said, determinedly.

“That might not be the best idea,” Cassandra said. 

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t mean to intrude,” Cassandra explained. “But Bartholemew and I talked while we were waiting for you and he was visibly conflicted -- it seems that though your friend was in his body for a short amount of time, memories of that time remain.”

“And?” Tim said confused. “We were glad to see Bart, but nothing happened that could be considered inappropriate --”

Kon happened to be glancing at Rob then, and he saw the way his face just tightened.

“No way,” he said. “You didn’t --”

“Hey!” Rob put his hands up in protest. “He didn’t mind! It was like completely harmless --”

“I don’t believe this,” Tim said, but Kon had other concerns.

“When did you have the time?”

“We are talking speedster,” Rob said, running his hands through his hair. “Shit. Just -- shit.” 

“We’ll discuss this later,” Tim said. “I’m going to go talk to him.”

“I’m not sure he wants to see you either,” Cassandra pointed out. “He’s angry at both of you.”

“Well then who --” Tim paused. “Kon.”

“Yeah?”

“What are you waiting for?”

“What, me? But -- I never know what to say! And -- man, I hardly know him!” But both Robins were looking at him, and Cassandra was kind of -- measuring him. Kon sighed. “I’ll try. But I still suck at this kind of stuff.”

He found Bartholemew sitting on the edge of the temple compound, the part where the outermost row of columns met the steps going down. He was sitting with his chin resting on his knees, and it was apparent at a glance that there was nothing meditative or reflective about his mood. 

Kon rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, decided ‘to hell with it’ and sat down next to him. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was so glad to see Bart it never occurred to me to think about how you felt about it all. Bart said you were okay -- and, well, I don’t know much about the Speed-Force but the way speedsters talk about it, it seems like it’s not so bad a place --”

“It’s not that so much as the memories,” Bartholemew said, staring determinedly at his feet. “I get bits and pieces not connected to anything -- I remember you hugging me -- being really glad to see you --”

“Bart’s one of my best friends,” Kon said. “He came looking for us, through the Speed-Force and everything. I was just so happy, I didn’t expect to see him -- and he’s a really tactile person.”

“Touch is another example of the way the body ties the spirit to it, pulls it down into earthly concerns,” Bartholemew said and scrubbed at his eyes. “To acheive enlightenment one must renounce all bodily and emotional ties to this plane --”

“You really believe that?” Kon said appalled. He winced at the glare Bartholemew gave him. “I didn’t mean it to sound like that. Just -- that must be hard.”

Bartholemew shrugged, going back to staring at his feet. “No one said it would be easy.”

“Yeah, but --” Kon decided no amount of reasoning would be enough, and tugged Bartholemew into a hug, using his telekinesis to keep the speedster in place. After the first surprised struggle, Bartholemew relaxed limply against his shoulder.

“This doesn’t prove anything. You’re forcing me to stay here,” he said, voice muffled in Kon’s shirt.

Kon rubbed his back. “I’m a jerk that way.”

Hiccupy laugh. 

Kon tried to imagine what Tim would say in a situation like this. “Look, I’m no expert on spiritual stuff. Don’t pretend to understand religion at all . . . but all this -- if it’s making you this unhappy -- is it really worth it?”

“M’not unhappy. I was fine, till Tim screwed everything up.”

“My Robin? Or --”

“My Robin. Both of them.” Bartholemew made a soft, despairing noise. “I don’t know any more.” 

“You want to tell me about it?” Kon asked, cringing inwardly at how lame that sounded. What kind of pathetic excuse for a friend was he if he didn’t already know?

Bartholemew didn’t seem to care. “Your Bart. He was so stupidly happy to see Tim. I just -- I got over that years ago, and put it behind me and he has my body for ten minutes, and what does he do with it? He lets Rob touch him -- how am I supposed to forget that?”

“I’m sure he didn’t -- they didn’t mean it -- I mean, Bart, our Bart, is kinda young --”

“Your Bart is so used to being underestimated that he’s found he gets away with more if he lets you guys think he’s clueless,” Bartholemew said with bitterness. “Tim should have known better.”

“Tim?” Kon was confused. “What does he have to do with --”

“He should have known. Noticed. I mean, he was there the entire time, you both were, and you let it happen --”

“Believe me, if I’d had any idea I would have done something,” Kon said, hesitantly patting Bartholemew’s arm. “Tim too. It’s not his fault --”

“If he had noticed your Bart -- I don’t know, if he hadn’t encouraged him in the first place, it wouldn’t have happened at all.” Bartholemew sounded angry, but with no intention of moving. 

Kon continued to pat him mechanically, his brain struggling to make sense of Bartholemew’s words. “Wait. You’re saying my Bart --”

“Has a thing for Tim. Apparently any Tim.” Bartholemew made a move to sit up, and Kon let him, mind still reeling. “I suppose I can’t blame him for going after what he wanted but -- why did it have to be Robin?”

“Look, I’m sure Rob wasn’t -- well, he was very worried about you and everything --”

“That makes it worse!” Bartholemew sighed, putting his hands over his face. “It was hard enough to forget when I thought he didn’t like me that way,” he said so softly, that it was only thanks to Kon’s super-hearing that he heard him at all. “How am I supposed to forget now?”

Kon put his arm around Bartholemew’s shoulder. “Are you sure -- I mean do you have to? I mean, Wally has Linda, your Granddad had to have had someone if you’re here --”

“That’s totally different.”

“If you say so. But -- well, in our world, Wally went into the Speed-Force. He’s still got the same bond near as I can tell -- but he doesn’t live in it. He still, well, lives.” Kon gestured helplessly. “I’m not saying you should stop what you’re doing but . . . well, I think there’s different ways of going about it, you know? What works for Wally might not work for you, just like what our Bart does doesn’t reflect on you --”

Bartholemew was silent so long, Kon got worried.

“You all right?”

“I’m -- I have a lot to think about.” He sighed, and managed a wavery smile at Kon. “Thanks. I think I needed that.”

“Hey, anytime.” Kon slapped him on the back and stood. “Going to survive?”

Bartholemew nodded. “Kon? Before you go?”

“Yeah?”

Kon blinked as he suddenly had a armful of monk. “Your Bart’s lucky to have such good friends.”

“What can I say? There’s a reason they call me Superboy.” Kon patted his head, and man, did the bald thing feel weird. “I’ll let the others know you’re thinking, okay?”

So maybe this whole sensitive-thing wasn’t so hard, Kon thought, walking back to the courtyard and the others. If he kept this up, maybe Tim would admit Kon was good for more than kicking villain butt.

Unfortunately, Rob did not seem that impressed. “What was that about?” he demanded, seemingly materialising out of the shadows behind a column.

“Aargh!”

“What the hell did you say to him to make him hug you?”

“Jealousy is an ugly emotion, you know.”

“Shove it.” Rob paused to look back to where Bartholemew had resumed his seat on the temple edge. “Is he --”

“He’s fine. Just needs to think a bit,” Kon patted Rob on the shoulder, steering him back towards the courtyard. “Leave him be.”

Rob didn’t seem convinced, but let himself be led away. “The Justice League arrived during your little heart-to-heart. And -- well, there’s good news and bad news.”

“Yeah?”

“The good news is that they know who was responsible for helping Luthor bring you here. Amazons were right, it was Eris.”

“But why? I mean, isn’t he like a sex god --”

“That’s Eros. Eris. She’s the sister of War, goddess of strife and discord. Geez, you don’t read do you?”

“Hey, I read. This Eris . . . wasn’t she the one with the apples and stuff? Saw it on Hercules --”

“I rest my case.”

“Hey, not everyone can be trained by the World’s Greatest Detective you know. How’s that good news?”

“Well, it means that we know who’s responsible. The Amazons have their priestesses trying to consult with the goddess to fix things. The bad news is . . . well, she thinks this is funny.”

Kon sighed. “Just great.”

“The Amazons are trying to get other gods to intercede on your behalf but . . . well, the prophecy has them worried, and those that aren’t afraid . . . they see this as a chance to get back at the Justice League. Some of them are really bitter at Superman and Flash for stealing what they consider their limelight.”

“So where does that leave Tim and me?”

Rob was silent for a long moment. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news and all, Kon but . . .”

“We’re going to be crashing with you a bit longer than expected?”

“I wish.” Rob paused to look at him honestly, and his eyes were the most serious Kon had ever seen on him. “Kon -- you may not be going home.”


	7. Chapter 7

Tim found him sitting in the garden beneath the statues of the goddesses. “Rob told you,” he said, pulling himself up onto the marble ledge beside Kon. 

“Yeah.”

“It’s just a possibility,” Tim said. “The League’s looking at other ways of getting us home. The Amazons are willing to help too. Of course, we may have to do a lot of sucking up before the Amazon’s gods will agree to help outsiders like us but --”

“And if we can’t get home, I guess a place like this isn’t so bad.” Kon gestured to the shining courtyard and the beautiful statues. “I mean, how many guys get to say they’ve been to Paradise Island?”

Tim didn’t smile. “Kon . . . how much did you hear about the other Flash? The one that appeared after Wally vanished into the Speed Force?”

“Not much -- I mean Superman mentioned him at the time, and it turned out to be the other universe Wally -- Walter, wasn’t it?”

“Batman told me he’d been through some hard times in his own world, that his version of Linda died and he went a little crazy. He fell in love with a Keystone cop and they were going to married but his presence was fracturing our reality -- the League forced him to leave our world.” Tim held up a hand before Kon could say anything. “It took a couple of months for things to start to go weird -- and at that point Wally had returned.”

Kon swallowed. “You think it wasn’t the time -- it was the presence of another Wally?”

“You should be fine,” Tim said. “There isn’t a version of you in this world.”

“But if we can’t find a way back -- what will happen to you?”

“Either I cease to exist -- or this world does.” Tim’s eyes were hidden behind the mask, but his mouth was set. 

“Tim --” His best friend -- No, Tim couldn’t do this to him, he couldn’t sit there and say calmly that he was going to die like it didn’t matter and -- 

Kon stopped. This was Tim. The stoic mask was probably his way of trying to prevent himself from freaking out. 

He clapped Tim on the shoulder, pulling him in for a loose hug. “You better have a better plan than that, bird-boy,” he said. “Because there is no way my best friend is ditching me because of some stupid law of physics.”

“Not sure Alternate Worlds fall under physics,” Tim said, but his fingers tightened on Kon’s arm. “Thanks, Kon. I -- thanks.”

“Hey, you know me,” Kon squeezed Tim’s shoulders then let go with a suitably heterosexual back-slap. “Mr Sensitive.”

“Is that so?” Tim raised an eyebrow at him with something of his usual sarcasm.

Kon shrugged. “What can I say? Guys want to be me -- Girls want to do me --”

“Right.” Rob materialised out of the shadows at the base of the statue of Aphrodite. “Leaving Superboy’s delusions aside, for the moment, I’ve heard something that might be of interest to you.”

“Yeah?”

“The Amazon warrior’s train in the temple next to this. Apparently they have some kind of training ring meets obstacle cause type get-up and I’m thinking re-match --”

Kon snorted. “Time of crisis and you want to turn to casual violence to solve your problems?”

“Works for me,” Tim said, dusting off his cloak and standing. “Kon, you want to referee?”

“I am not getting involved in another fight between you guys for love or money,” Kon shook his head. “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.”

“Your loss,” Rob slapped Tim on the back. “This way, Timmy.”

Tim removed the arm. “Call me that again and you die in the most painful way imaginable.”

They must have made up while Kon was talking to Bartholemew. 

Kon sighed, pulling his legs up onto the statue base to rest his chin on his knees. Yeah, it was good that the Robins were getting along and that Bartholemew had cheered up some but . . . well, who hugged the Kon? He could really do with Superman landing in the middle of the courtyard and announcing that Tim would be fine and they would be going home soon enough --

The whisper of cloth and girlish voices lifted his attention and Kon looked up to see a cluster of Amazon girls, all wearing the pleated white robes, crossing the courtyard carrying plates and amphora of wine. They looked curiously at Kon as they passed him, breaking into giggles and blushes a moment later. Kon stared back. 

So maybe it wasn’t so unusual to find Cissie where Cassie was, but unless the Amazons were skilled mathmaticians, he didn’t really see a place for Greta on Themyscira, and Mia . . . they’d only just got to know her, so it was surprising to find her obviously close to the others in this world --

“You look down, Kon. Everything okay?” Cassandra asked, pausing a moment and lowering the barrel of water she carried with her. 

“I’m just surprised to see some familiar faces, that’s all. Since when has Themyscira allowed outsiders?”

“You heard that Wonderwoman began a revival of the worship of the Greek Gods?” Cassandra asked. “My mother came to Themyscira to study the resurgence in old customs, and the Amazons opened their doors to a limited number of converts, refugees and researchers.”

“Don’t tell me -- Cissie’s mother is here too, training to be a harpy.”

Cassandra looked startled, then laughed. “I don’t believe -- she’s in your world too?”

“Hey, some things are just universal.”

“Not everything.” Cassandra looked sad. “I -- Kon, I don’t know how to say this but --”

Kon shrugged. “I -- I heard the news.”

“I’m sorry,” she said awkwardly. “I wish there was more we could do to help. I can’t even imagine what it’s like to find yourself in another world but --”

“It’s Tim I’m more worried about,” Kon said, and wondered at how he could tell this Cassie things so easily even knowing that she wasn’t his Cassie. Another Universal Constant? “But yeah -- I want to be back at the Tower, back at Smallville -- hell, I’d even settle for back at school if it meant I could see you again.” Short pause while Kon considered that and Cassandra tried not to smile. “The other you -- ah, you know what I meant.”

Cassandra leant against the marble base next to where Kon was sitting. “I think I do. It’s strange Kon. From my perspective I’ve known you only hours and yet -- I think I can see why my Alternate self would like you so much.”

Something about her tone -- Kon had a sudden flash of recognition. “Are you breaking up with me?” he blurted. “Not that we are in fact together or anything remotely near together but --”

“Some of the Priestesses believe that I shouldn’t be telling you this,” Cassandra said softly, not quite meeting Kon’s eyes. “But I couldn’t just . . . couldn’t just let you hope in the interests of keeping you on our side. You’re a nice guy, Kon, and you don’t deserve to be deceived, even for the sake of our gods. I do like you but --”

Kon shut his eyes and took a deep breath. “Hey,” he said when he thought he had himself in control. “No sweat.” Cassandra looked doubtful so he elaborated. “I -- you’re not my Cassie, I understand that. And I’d much rather know than . . . you know.” Throat was getting tight so Kon cast around for anything else he could say quickly. “So. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“No guys on Themyscira,” Cassandra pointed out.

“No way. No fucking -- is it Cissie?” 

Cassandra looked at her feet, blushing bright as a tomato. “I -- how did you know?”

“Hey, even if I’m not your boyfriend in this world, I’m still your friend. I just know.” Kon grinned at her. Blushing boyish Cassandra was oddly cute, and he couldn’t help but add, “She better treat you right, is all I’m saying. Or she’ll have to answer to me.”

“You are a dork,” Cassandra said. “Cute, but a dork.” She smiled at him. “I’d better go, let the others know you’re okay with this. Thank you, Kon. I’m glad we can be friends.”

“Me too,” Kon said. “See you later, Cassandra.” He watched her head inside one of the rooms off the courtyard, and it wasn’t until she vanished beyond the marble pillars that Kon realised he hadn’t suggested a threesome or made a single lesbian crack. He shook his head at himself.

“You’re slipping,” he told himself firmly. “Just think what Tim would have to say to you.” He sighed, and slid off the statue base.

Cassandra had forgotten her barrel of water, and Kon’s foot collided with it, tipping the container onto it’s side and filling the courtyard with water. Damnit. Kon righted the barrel. This was the last thing he needed --

The sparkle of light on water caught his eye and he looked at the basin of water beneath the statue he’d been sitting by. It looked okay -- Kon scooped a little of the water out to test it, and yeah, the Amazons could make a fortune bottling it and selling it to the preppy crowd. “I hope this isn’t against your rules or something,” he told the shapely goddess statue as he used his telekinesis to scoop water out of the well and refill Cassandra’s barrel. “Chalk it up to me being new here.”

He floated the barrel with him through the pillars into the ante-room off the courtyard. The Justice League were gathered there, along with Diana and some Amazon women in costumes that indicated they must be the priestesses. Cassandra and her friends were there, passing round plates, and Cassandra’s smile as she spotted Kon made it all worth it. 

“I hadn’t even realised I’d forgotten,” she said. “Thank you, Kon. You really are very sweet.”

Kon shrugged. “That’s me all over. So what’s going on? We having a dinner party?”

“Kind of,” Cassandra carried the barrel to where two Amazons were mixing wine in an oddly shaped vase. “Since Eris has been causing trouble in the outside world, trouble we should have prevented, we’ve invited the Justice League to stay on Themyscira until things are sorted out, and they’ve been working on this problem for so long . . . they need a break.”

“Huh.” Kon leaned back to watch. “Batman doesn’t seem convinced.”

“It seems that he isn’t keen on leaving his city for such a long period. I imagine he’ll be returning once the meal is over.”

“I don’t think ours would have stayed this long,” Kon said. “What are they doing -- adding water to the wine?”

“We make our wine the old-fashioned way,” Cassandra said with a smile. “This is how the Ancient Greeks did it. This kind of vase is used solely to dilute the wine. It’s called a volute krater --” She stopped at the look Kon was giving her. 

“Your Mom’s still a curator then?”

“Archeologist.”

“Wow.”

“You should sit down and get something to eat,” Cassandra suggested. “We can compare worlds later.”

Good advice, Kon decided. Apart from the apple he’d grabbed before going to talk to Bartholemew, he hadn’t eaten all day. Speaking of whom --

“I guess you must be feeling better?” Kon said, sitting beside the robed speedster. 

Bartholemew nodded. “Where is -- are the Robins?”

Kon raised an eyebrow, wondering which Robin he wanted to see. “Reconciling their differences through brute force.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Bartholemew paused a moment then added. “I just heard. I want you to know that the speedsters will do anything we can to get you and Tim home.”

“As will the Justice League,” Superman said, patting Kon on the back as he passed. “I’m sure our counterparts in your world are very worried.”

“Yeah. I mean -- we were supposed to help Cyborg repair the Tower,” Kon said, and then realised how stupid he sounded. Their world was in danger of being wiped out, Tim might cease to exist and that was what he was worried about?

“We will find a way.” Diana placed a goblet of wine in front of him. “Let us worry about it. For now, just try to relax and enjoy yourself a little.”

Kon nodded. “Thank you,” he said, watching Diana and Superman join the rest of the League at the head of the table. 

Bartholemew elbowed him. “It’s not polite to stare.”

“I wasn’t, I --” Kon sighed and gave up. “What’s the legal drinking age in this world?” he asked, picking up the goblet. 

“No limit on Themyscira,” Bartholemew shrugged. “And even if there was, you saw them watering it down. It’s harmless.”

“Yeah?” Kon took a sip. Didn’t taste like usual wine, that was for sure. He took a longer swallow. “How much have you had?”

“Speedster metabolism,” Bartholemew said raising his glass to Kon’s with a very-Bart smirk. “Wouldn’t affect me anyway.”

“Remind me not to get into a drinking contest with a speedster,” Kon said and drained the rest of his glass. “So, I guess since there’s nothing better to do, we eat, drink and be merry?”

“That seems to be the plan.”

\---

Kon was beginning to think that the similarities between his world and this one were not as great as he had first assumed. Yes, there were many obvious overlaps, such as the presence of a League, but just because the similarities were obvious, didn’t mean the differences weren’t there.

“Trust me,” he told Bart, waving a hand. “Your League seems a lot friendlier.”

“But you said our Batman was just as grim and creepy as yours,” Bartholemew protested, curled against Kon’s side.

“Yeah, but that was before I realised he was such a party animal. And Diana -- in our world, she’s kind of standoffish -- cool, and all, but you’d never catch her hugging J’onn.” Kon’s arm was getting kind of heavy where it was so he let it slip from Bartholemew’s shoulder to his waist. “And yeah, Superman and Batman are close but not this close -- I mean, not as far as I know, although it would explain a lot --”

“Maybe they’re just feeling happy today.”

Kon shrugged, finishing another glass of the wine. “Maybe. For that matter, what’s up with you? Isn’t cuddling against your religion?” He paused. “Not that I think we should stop or anything --”

Bartholemew shrugged. “You feel nice. Warm. Kind of like an electric blanket.”

Kon snorted. “Thanks a lot.” He didn’t even blink as Bart’s fingers edged up his t-shirt to run over bare skin; it somehow made perfect sense. “You want more wine?”

“I’m not thirsty. I want --” Bartholemew paused, fingers curling around Kon. “I don’t know what I want.”

He’d probably freak out if Kon kissed him, so Kon nuzzled his neck instead. Yeah, this was nice. 

Bartholemew laughed kind of breathlessly, fingers dancing across Kon’s back, the sound becoming a kind of moan as Kon decided to try licking at his collarbone. “That is the coolest thing ever!”

“Yeah?” And it was hard to be more coherent than that, not with Bartholemew pressed against his side where Kon could feel every breath, every giggle --

“Excuse me, Kon?” Cassandra tugged at his elbow. “One moment?”

She was so pretty. “Sure,” Kon said, standing. “What is it, Cassie?”

“I wanted to ask you -- do you think you could put Bartholemew down, maybe? I want to talk to you.”

“Oh, right. Talk.” Kon disentangled Bartholemew from himself carefully. After a moment’s consideration, he propped the monk against a nearby Amazon. Didn’t want him to be lonely after all. “There you go. So, Cassie -- what did you want to talk about?”

Cassie carefully removed Kon’s hand from her waist. “Do you notice anything strange about everyone?” 

Kon shrugged, eyeing the crowd. “Everyone seems pretty happy to me. I’ve never seen the Justice League this mellow. And it’s great that Bartholemew’s finally relaxed some.”

“And this doesn’t strike you as unusual?”

Kon shrugged. “Hey, who are we to question their methods of relaxation? If they don’t have a problem with it, I don’t think we can judge --”

“Kon, you adorable dork. Listen to me.” Cassandra placed her finger over Kon’s lips, effectively shutting him up. “Something’s not right about this. Everything -- it just seems a little too sudden, too strange. Did anything happen? Do you know something about this?”

Kon shook his head. “Hey, are you all right?” he asked, rubbing her wrist gently. “You seem kind of warm --”

Cassie sighed and shook her hand. “I’m fine, I just -- I don’t know -- I, Kon, you have nice hands --”

“I know, I -- is Bartholemew hitting on Plasticman? That has to be against his religion -- all religions --”

“You see!” Cassandra pushed Kon’s hand away. “Something is seriously weird about all of this. I’m not sure -- it started with the wine --” She paused as Cissie joined them, growing suspicion on her face. “The water. Did anything happen to the water?”

Kon shrugged. It was hard to remember. “Tipped,” he said. “Had to top it up from the basin in the courtyard.”

“Which basin? Kon this is impor -- Cissie, I’m busy here --”

Kon watched Cassandra trying to untangle herself and swallowed. “Do you guys want to be left alone?”

“What? No! Cissie, stop that!” Cassandra managed to tug herself free. “Kon. Which basin?”

“The one under the, you know. Very uh -- well endowed statue --”

“Aphrodite? Kon, do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Kon shrugged, looking at the room and the very friendly Justice League. “Made everyone very happy?”

“That’s one way of -- Cissie, please, now is not the time!” Cassandra hastily retrieved her robe. “Kon, I think you should go.”

Kon pouted. “Can’t I just watch?”

“What?”

“I’ll be really quiet, promise. You won’t even know I’m --”

“The Bat-jet,” Cassandra said, so grumpy that even Cissie was momentarily daunted. “Go there now. I have to . . .” she gestured helplessly to the rest of the room. “I don’t know. Sort this out.”

“Good luck,” Kon said dubiously. He wasn’t sure why Aquaman had his tongue in Plasticman’s ear, but he was pretty certain he didn’t want to find out. 

Cissie was busy trying to undo Cassandra’s robe again, so with a last longing look in their direction, Kon floated across the room to the courtyard entrance. Girls. He wasn’t even sure what he’d done this time --

“Kon!” A hand caught his foot and he looked down to see Bartholemew staring up at him. “You’re going?”

Kon nodded, floating down to join him. “I don’t get it,” he said. “But Cassie -- Cassandra -- wants me to go back to the jet.”

Bartholemew studied him thoughtfully. “You don’t sound happy.”

Kon shrugged. “I guess I’m a little bummed. I mean, I know she’s not my girlfriend in this world but still . . .”

“You need a hug.”

Kon raised an eyebrow. “What, you’re the expert now?”

Bartholemew pressed up against him, kind of nuzzling his neck. “Speedster. Quick learner.”

Kon laughed, and pulled him close. “So I see.” He stroked the monk’s back lightly. “Any thing else you’ve learnt I should know about?”

The response surprised him. 

“They didn’t teach you that at your monastery!”

“I used to be Rob’s best friend,” Bartholemew was smug. “What, you think I learned nothing?”

Kon swallowed. He wasn’t sure where to go from here.

Luckily Bartholemew had a few ideas. “Race you to the Bat-jet, Kon.”


	8. Chapter 8

The sides of the Bat-jet were as cool as the paint-job and Kon leaned against them with relief. He needed something solid, something that made sense. It wasn’t that he was complaining or anything, but somewhere along the way, the Universe had gotten a little too weird.

He hadn’t had nearly enough time to think as he wanted when the Robins arrived, looking as though they’d run all the way from the Amazon city. Which, in all probability, they had. 

“Kon!” Tim called, not waiting for a reply as he sprinted to Kon’s side. “Are you all right? What happened?”

“I’m fine,” Kon said. “What makes you think something happened?”

“When we got back from our training match, the courtyard was a mess. Tables overturned, wine spilled everywhere -- looked like some massive free for all. None of the League or the Priestesses would talk about it --”

“And that’s not all. Look!” Tim pulled out the world-hopping device. It was humming, its surface glowing with energy. You didn’t have to be a scientific expert to know it was charged. “If the device is working then the prophecy had to have been fulfilled --”

Kon stared at the device blankly then it clicked. “Oh. So that’s what she meant.”

Tim stared at him. “Kon -- what did you do?”

“Not what.” Kon bit his lip. “Who.”

Both Robins stared at him. 

“No,” said Tim in his tight ‘the world will go back to making sense if we stay calm and use proper tenses’ voice. “You didn’t--”

The Bat-jet door slid open, and Bartholemew stepped out, hitching the sheet he was wearing up so he didn’t trip. He’d wrapped it around him toga-style, and if he hadn’t been yawning sleepily and still partially flushed, he might have resembled a Roman senator. As it was, he looked like someone who’d just had sex. “Robin?”

Rob was the first to react, drawing his grappling hook and leaping straight for Kon’s head. “I’m going to kill you --” He was so angry his voice shook.

Kon sighed miserably, and didn’t bother to dodge. “I didn’t mean -- I mean, I wasn’t --” he said, as Rob’s attacks bounced harmlessly off this telekinetic shield. “I --”

“Hey,” Bartholemew said with an amused smile, hitching up the sheet. “I’m not complaining.”

Tim still appeared shell-shocked, but Kon blinked and Rob paused his attempts to strangle Kon momentarily. 

“You’re not?”

Bartholemew shook his head, looping an arm around a still stunned Tim. “What can I say? It was fun and if it hadn’t been brought about by the demented whim of a fickle goddess, a criminal fanatic and a prophet whom I’m beginning to suspect has a much more twisted sense of humour than anyone gives her credit for, I’d suggest we do it again sometime.”

Rob gave up the fight completely, sliding off Kon with none of his usual grace. “You -- like him?” he said, sounding utterly lost. 

“Don’t get me wrong,” Bartholemew said, letting go of Tim with a squeeze. “Kon’s cool and all but -- well, you’re cute when you’re trying to be all hard core and tough.”

Rob grinned at him, all happy and glowing for all of a minute. “Wait a minute -- trying? Who’s trying?” He protested. “And no way am I cute --”

“See?” Bartholemew said serenely, rearranging the sheet. “We’ll have to make out later, you’ve got a visitor.”

“Visitor?” Kon repeated, frowning at their empty surroundings. No one was approaching by either land or sky. “What do you mean --” he started turning back to Bartholemew.

He barely managed to avoid being zapped by the sudden bolt of lightning.

“We have got to train them to give us more warning than that,” Tim said, as they waited for him to regain consciousness. 

“Tell me about it,” Kon said fervently. “Hey -- you all right? You’re looking kind of pale --”

Tim looked at him. “I --” he started uncertainly, and then a soft exclamation drew his attention back to Bartholemew. “He’s waking up --”

“Tim!” And before anyone could blink, much less say ‘Hooray for hyper-metabolisms,’ Tim had an armful of very clingy speedster. 

“Bart?” he said carefully. 

“Timmm! So good toseeyou --nvrthttIdfindway baaacckk --” The air around Bart flicked with lightning, and Kon swallowed. That wasn’t normal -- neither was Bart’s voice.

“Hey -- what’s wrong with him?” Rob asked, alarmed.

“Take it easy, Bart,” Tim rubbed Bart’s back, trying not to wince at the static energy surrounding them. “You’re all right, you made it.”

“Donnnnn’tunnnnderrrstannddd--” Bart pushed him back, waving his arms wildly. “Idintmkitt -- losttt --”

“Dude, you need to chill.” Kon tried to pat his shoulder but Bart was gone before he could reach him, flickering in and out of focus. 

“He’s having trouble operating at our speed,” Tim said. “I don’t think he can judge time.”

Kon glanced at him. If he didn’t know Tim so well, he might have missed the way his mouth tightened -- worried. “How are we supposed to slow him down?”

Rob watched closely as Bart blurred past him, and suddenly whipped out a hand. Before anyone, least of all Bart, could react, he had the speedster held tight in a -- Kon blinked. Okay, that was a very involved kiss. Almost too involved given the situation -- Kon swallowed. Maybe Bartholemew was right when he said their Bart wasn’t as innocent as he looked. 

Tim coughed.

Rob eventually let go. “You cool?” he said with as much diffidence as he could muster.

Bart nodded, fiddling with the edge of the sheet. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Rob said generously, patting his arm. 

Tim was giving his counterpart a look he had to have inherited from Batman. “Considering how upset Bartholemew got the last time this happened --” he said, and paused meaningfully. 

Rob raised a very smug eyebrow at him. “This just makes us even,” he said, jerking his head towards Kon. 

Tim looked like he wanted to argue that, but Bart interrupted them. “Is there a reason I’m wearing a sheet?”

“Uh --” Both the Robins looked at Kon, who shuffled his feet. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, there is.”

“Good. Just as long as there’s a reason,” Bart stopped fussing with the edge of the sheet. “It’d suck if my counterpart thought this was cool.”

“So,” Tim said casually putting himself between Bart and Rob. “Not that we aren’t all thrilled to see you, Bart, but is there a reason you’re here?”

Bart went from happily bemused to distressed puppy instantly. “I . . . uh, kindofgotlost.” He said, and blurred out of sight. “Totally didn’t mean to,” he added, and Kon turned to see that Bart had obviously designated him suitable cover, doing his best to hide behind Kon’s back. 

“You got lost? But -- that’s the Speed-Force, man! You guys are supposed to know all about that --”

“It’s the same Speed-Force, but all the different realities -- they’re really messed up.” Kon couldn’t remember seeing Bart look this worried, ever. “It was so hard to navigate and I kind of panicked and I followed the link back to T-- to both of you.” He eeped as Kon used his telekinesis to pin him to one spot. 

“You’ve been in the Speed-Force all that time?” Bart’s downturned mouth was answer enough, and Kon ran his hand through his hair with a sigh. “Shit. What are we supposed to do now?”

“For a start, you might want to let go of Bart, Kon.” Tim suggested, putting his hand on Bart’s arm. “Let’s go into the Bat-jet so we can discuss this.”

‘Discuss this’ turned out to be bat-speak for calm Bart down. Rob navigated the Bat-jet to the nearest country with a ice-cream place, while Tim used the jet’s computers to access the JLA files, looking for anything that might have a bearing on their predicament. 

Kon was wondering just how, with two Robins on board, it was nonetheless Kon who wound up designated Bart-comforter. He sighed, rubbing Bart’s back. “Don’t sweat it, Bart. This kind of thing happens to all of us.”

“But I wanted to show Ti -- you guys -- that I can handle big, important stuff.” Bart sighed and hid his face in his knees. “Wally’s going to kill me,” he said, voice muffled.

Pointing out that there was a good chance they wouldn’t see Wally -- or at least, their Wally -- again was not going to improve matters. “You said that it took Wally and Linda awhile to find their way back? Makes sense it’d take us a little longer to return,” Kon suggested. “So what? It’s not like any of us care about missing school.”

“That’s true.” Bart seemed comforted. Until he added, “Of course, Jay will make me do any work I missed.”

“Sucks to be you,” Kon smirked. “The Kents are totally cool with stuff like that. I bet they won’t even make me do the chores I’ve missed.”

“There have to be some advantages to living in cow-pat central, I guess,” Bart said and Kon was morally obligated to try and give him head burn. Of course this worked much better when Bart actually had hair. 

“We have so got to get you back,” Kon said, mentioning this. 

“I dunno,” Bart shrugged, patting his bald head. “This feels wicked cool when I run. ‘Sides,” he said, voice carefully casual. “I think Tim likes it better like this.”

Kon paused for his brain to catch up with the conversation. “What?” he said. Because there was no way he and Bart could be talking about this --

“Tim seems to pay a lot more attention to me -- Bartholemew,” Bart said and was he blushing or did his ears always go this red and Kon had never noticed because of the hair? “And I was wondering if you thought he liked this.” He shrugged, the gesture managing to convey not only the the bald head but the sheet, still dignified and toga-style.

“I really don’t think that’s it,” Kon said, trying not to imagine the fall out if their Bart decided to adopt Bartholemew’s approach to things. “I think it’s more . . . curiousity. Because this world is what our world could be if things were different. I --” Kon sighed. “I’m not saying this very well, but I think Tim liked Bartholemew because he was like you.”

Bart stared at Kon for an eternity -- all of two seconds -- with his mouth open and the most hopeful expression in his eyes Kon had seen since he’d rejoined him. Then he shook his head abruptly. “You’re totally just saying that to cheer me up.”

“Trust me, Bart. It’s like . . . well Rob and Tim. They’re both Tim, and Rob’s cool and all but -- he’s not our Tim, is he?”

Bart looked thoughtful then the corner of his mouth quirked up. “Our Tim would never add mesh to his costume.”

“There you go.” Kon patted Bart on the back. “For that matter -- what was up with you and Rob anyway?” He cast a look at the cabin, but both Robins were engaged in very important bat-stuff. “You like him?”

“He noticed me,” Bart said softly. “I’ve been trying to get Tim to notice me for relative years, and then Rob likes me just for being me.” He rubbed his arm, absently continuing. “I wanted that. Also, the peircings? Totally hot.”

Kon chuckled. “Hard to imagine our Tim doing anything like that, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Bart sounded vaguely mournful. “Too bad. Still --” he paused to look thoughtfully at the Robins, still busy with whatever they were doing. “I think he has to have noticed me now, which is good because do you know how annoying it is to have to compete for attention with every breaking news-report, research, thug and gangster out there? I was this close to becoming a villain, just so we could hang out more.”

Kon snorted. “You? A villain?”

“Not a very competent one,” Bart hastened to assure him. “Like not competent enough to endanger anyone or cause major property damage, yet just competent enough that Tim himself would have to come fight me, and we’d hang out. Then I’d make an improbable escape. I think I’d be good at that, don’t you? The escaping part.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard you say,” Kon told him. “And considering how long I’ve known you, that’s saying a lot.”

Bart pouted. “I thought it was a good idea.”

“Yeah, becoming a villain to make Tim like you? Newsflash, Bart. Superheroes as a rule do not date their villains. It just doesn’t work.”

“Catwoman.”

“What?”

“It works for Catwoman.”

“No way. You’re not seriously saying -- Batman?”

“Yes way. Everyone knows about it. Go ask Robin if you don’t believe me.”

“Fine then, I will.” Kon made his way over to the cockpit door. “Okay,” he said. “So is Batman doing the dirty with Catwoman, or what?”

The reaction was unexpected. Tim choked, spraying coffee and coughing. Rob jerked the controls, sending the jet into a downward spin. 

“What the hell, Kon? You trying to make us crash?”

“It was only a question --”

“Out of the cockpit, now!”

“Can’t a guy ask a simple question -- fine, fine, I’m going.” Kon shut the door and rejoined Bart. “They didn’t answer. They must not know.”

“Maybe they’re in denial,” Bart suggested. “I’m telling you it’s true. It’s over all of the Gotham newsboards.”

“Just because you read it on the internet doesn’t make it true,” Kon insisted. “I’ll believe it when I see it and not a moment before then.”

“But there’s like evidence and stuff.”

“Bart, there’s evidence for the Joker liking Batman. That doesn’t mean he does.”

“That’s not what Wally thinks.”

Kon stared at him. “Please tell me you and Wally don’t sit around and talk about this stuff. That’s just weird.”

“I was talking to Piper, actually. It was a converation he’d had with Wally. Anyway, I think it’s the sort of thing we should take an interest in. Do you know how many times Wally’s been attacked by homocidal ex-girlfriends or their husbands?”

He did have a point. “You forget, we’re talking Batman here. Lurking in shadows, doing his whole ‘I’m scarier than you’ thing -- hell, he doesn’t take the mask off long enough to meet chicks. When’s he going to score?”

“Maybe she likes the mask. I mean, look at her costume.” Bart shrugged. “You think they roleplay?”

“No. No way -- Did you have to say that? I think I liked it better when we didn’t talk about this stuff.”

Bart shrugged, curling up in his chair. “Sorry.” 

He sounded bummed. Kon sighed, and sat next to him. “I was joking,” he said, patting Bart’s shoulder. “We’re friends, right? You can tell me anything.”

Bart looked at him carefully. “Remember when we got scooped up inside Secret? And we fell through all that stuff?”

Kon nodded. “I try not to remember that, but yeah.”

“It’s kind of like that, the Speed-Force. Not the scary ‘we’re all going to die’ part, but the rest of it -- the disconcerting ‘don’t know which way is up’ feeling. Like you know when you’re tossed in a pool, and there’s that nano-second when you’re not sure which way is up and which way is down?” Bart frowned. “I couldn’t find up. The only thing I had was you and Tim and I had to go away from that to try and find something familiar and I got so turned around and stretched and the Speed Force was so strong and close and I think I forgot who I was for a while.” Bart nudged his way under Kon’s arm. “I was all lost and everything and then I found something I knew and it was Ti -- you guys.” 

“But that’s a good thing, right? At least you found us.” Kon patted Bart’s back. “And whatever happens from now on, at least we’ll be together.”

Bart bit his lip. “I don’t want to go back in there,” he said. “If I get lost again --”

“There’s no other way home,” Kon told him. “And we can’t stay here. Tim might cease to exist.”

Bart stared at him, eyes huge. “What?”

Kon kicked himself. Way to reassure Bart. “There’s another Tim in this universe, right?” he said. “So the presence of two Tims will gradually --”

“Warp reality, leading to the lack of existence of this world and possibly our world as well.” Bart frowned. “I hate when that happens.”

Kon didn’t want to know. “Look at it this way,” he said. “Tim and me were pulling you back towards this reality, right? This time, we’ll be with you. Who knows? We might have been what was keeping you from finding your way back.”

Bart considered that carefully. “You know, Kon, sometimes you are actually smart.”

Kon glared at him. “I’m not sure whether I should thank you or hit you for that.”

Fortunately Tim interrupted them to let them know they were landing before Kon had to decide. Instead he mused on the obvious bias of the Robins. Kon wanted groceries? He had to fly to get them. Bart needed ice-cream? Neither Robin said anything about the inappropriateness of landing the Bat-jet in the Baskin Robbins’ carpark. 

“Are you sure Batman would approve of this?” he asked, sitting down with his chocolate fudge sundae.

“How could he not?” Bart had been allowed to order a scoop of every ice-cream flavour on the menu and was now considerably more cheerful. “Baskin Robbins -- Batman and Robin? It’s a perfect match.”

“Or would be if I weren’t, you know, lactose intolerant?” Rob stirred his fruit slushie and smirked. “Besides, I kind of figure that anyone calling to report the Bat-jet and four teenagers, one of whom is wearing a sheet, is probably going to get laughed at.”

“Somehow I fail to see that impressing Batman,” Kon said, but he snickered anyway.

“He can deal,” Tim said and it was probably a lot easier for him to say that when he wasn’t the one going to get the lecture. “This is probably the last time we’ll be together.”

“I’m really going to miss you guys,” Rob said. “Except for Tim,” he added thoughtfully.

“Thanks,” Tim said drily. “I’m not sure how I’ll be able to live without the oppressive burden of your presence, but I’ll try.”

“Geez guys, keep the lovey-dovey stuff to yourselves. Bart and I are trying to eat here,” Kon teased. “Who won the better Robin competition anyway?”

“It was never a competition,” Rob said and Tim just smirked.

Halfway through his mammoth ice-cream sundae, Bart stood abruptly. 

“I told you that you wouldn’t like the Butter Pecan,” Tim said but Bart shook his head. 

“It’s not that,” he said. “Bartholemew wants back in. I guess it’s time to go.”

Fortunately it was still relatively early, and the carpark almost entirely deserted. Rob shook hands with Tim and exchanged manly back-pats with Kon. “Good luck, you guys. I really hope you find your way home,” he said. “And if there’s a way we can, you know, visit in the future --”

“Yeah,” Kon said. 

“Say goodbye to Bartholemew for us,” Tim said. “And that we appreciated his help.”

Rob nodded. “Will do.” He hesitated. “So. Bart.”

“Rob.”

“Stay cool, yeah?” Rob patted his arm. 

Bart nodded seriously, then suddenly squashed the Robin in a tight hug. “You too.”

Kon raised an eyebrow. “Is it just me or is this getting repetitive?” he asked Tim. 

His friend did not seem to be impressed. “We may want to leave sometime today,” he pointed out. 

Bart reluctantly let go. “How do you want to do this?” he asked, adjusting the sheet for better running. “Count of three?”

Tim shifted closer to Kon, holding the device ready. “Makes sense. Everyone ready?”

Kon nodded. 

“Right then. One. Two. Three --” 

Nothing in Kon's previous dimension travelling experience had prepared him for this The trip there hadn’t taken more than seconds, the device porting them to the intended destination almost instantly. This time, however --

This was like a hurricane on acid. Light and colour ripped past him, and Kon swore they had weight in the way that even sand can hurt if it’s travelling fast enough when it hits you --

The only patch of colour that stayed solid long enough for him to recognise was the flap of Tim’s cape and if he hadn’t grabbed him then Tim would have been dragged away in the current. 

Tim’s expression was pained. He yelled something as he held onto Kon’s hand as tightly as he could, but the sound was swept away like everything else.Kon concentrated, extending his telekinetic shield to envelop Tim as well, forming a bubble around them. 

Tim sank to his knees immediately he could, the hand that Kon held going limp. 

“You all right?” Kon demanded, although he obviously wasn’t. 

“Couldn’t breathe,” Tim said, still gasping. “No air --”

“You think even the oxygen’s moving fast?”

“Either that or the Speed-Force acts like a sort of vacumn,” Tim had recovered enough to stand, placing a hand against Kon’s aura to steady himself. The touch kind of tickled, even though he wasn’t actually touching Kon. “Everything that doesn’t move fast enough gets whittled away.” He paused, looking at the light and colour streaking past them. “So this is the Speed-Force.”

“Doesn’t feel like I thought it would. I mean, speedsters make a big deal out of this place being special and I can feel the power here but --”

“According to the speedsters, the Speed-Force chooses people. I think -- I don’t think we’re welcome here,” Tim said carefully. 

Kon shivered at the energy washing over his shield. It wasn’t particularly malevolent, but it was relentless. Inevitable. That’s how it felt. “You’re saying we’ve been rejected by the Speed-Force?”

“How long can you keep this shield up?” Tim said instead.

“Not sure. Another half hour at least.” Kon looked around them. There didn’t seem to be any end to the rush of light. “Where’s --”

And Bart was there, colliding with them and somehow managing to make his way past Kon’s shield to throw his arms around them. “Found you,” he said, full of triumph and maybe he wasn’t entirely there because even as Kon could feel Bart’s fingers on his arm, he could see Bart blurred and stretched out like the waves of colour around them -- he’d heard about that, when you travelled a certain speed, everything became ultra-violet, and that would explain why Bart’s edges blurred, why he looked kind of washed out, but not why he looked golden -- 

“Bart,” Tim said with no small amount of relief. “Can you get us out of here?”

“Easy,” Bart squeezed them both tightly, then let go, putting a curious hand to the side of Kon’s telekinetic bubble-shield. “How strong is this, Kon?”

“Strong as I am,” Kon said, resisting the urge to lean over and ruffle Bart’s Speed-Force hair -- he’d probably end up with the mother of all static shocks. 

“Can you hold on to me with it?” Bart asked. “I’m going to need to concentrate when I run and I’m not sure I can do that and balance you guys --”

“This do?” Kon asked, narrowing the shield until it looped around Bart, and pulled Tim to his side. Tim seemed to be having problems breathing again, but judging from his expression, it wasn’t lack of oxygen this time. Oops. Kon would have to remember not to do that to him again.

“Tickles.” Bart didn’t seem to mind. “Okay, here I go --” 

Without the warning Kon might have lost hold of him. Bart moved like he was light, the golden energy that was his wake washing over Kon’s shield, dragging them with him. The light and colour around them blurred to become something approaching people and buildings, gone before Kon could even be sure they’d ever been there. And again -- 

Maybe they were people? Kon nudged Tim. “Open your eyes, Tim. You’ve got to see this.”

Tim made a sick sounding noise and buried his head against Kon’s t-shirt. Right. This was probably a normal human reaction to travelling at this speed, one that Kon’s own speed protected him against. Still, if they kept this up, he would be feeling motion sick in a minute --

They whipped past another could have been a person. Bart’s energy tightened around them, trying to push -- faster? They were slowing him down --

Kon pulled Tim tighter towards him, concentrating on shaping his telekinetic shield into something smoother, more streamlined. Bart’s protective aura rippled over his as he concentrated, frictionless and smooth and then suddenly it was like they’d passed some sort of barrier, the resistance was gone and the shadowy could-be figures? 

Kon shook Tim, nudging his head up. “Trust me, you’ll want to see this.”

The shadowy blurs had resolved themselves into people, landscapes -- they got glimpses of completely still panoramas as they shot past them all, like a series of photographs. 

“Wow,” Tim said. “And each of these is another world?”

Kon nodded. He could see why Bart had got lost. Each tableau they passed, the people all looked the same -- people talking on celphones, walking their pets, billboards for soft drinks and Kon was sure he’d seen one billboard where Gar was modelling lingerie, all normal stuff that could be theirs, could belong to any number of parallel dimensions --

“There’s no end to this,” Tim said and his voice was worried. “How are we supposed to --?”

“Keep your eyes open,” Kon told him. “We don’t want to miss it.”

He didn’t want to admit he was as worried as Tim was -- 

Around them the still people blurred slightly -- Bart was slowing down.

Kon tightened his aura reassuringly. ‘You can do it,’ he thought at Bart. We’re counting on you. 

It seemed to get through. The images flashing by them sharpened and then solidified again. Kon caught a glimpse of a guy with his arm around a girl with blonde hair and even though they were gone before he could get a proper look, she reminded him of Cassie. 

He missed Cassie’s smile, her dorky habit of walking around in the mornings with fuzzy grandma slippers, god, everything about her. He’d never wanted to see anything so much as her just then --

“That way,” he said suddenly, surprising himself. “Bart, take us that way.”

Bart didn’t hesitate.

The images around them sped up even faster, blurring together in a sick mess that made Tim groan, and hold tighter to Kon, and the shield shivered under the increased pressure. Kon closed his eyes, hoping that Bart knew what he was doing, and felt his ears pop -- 

Then was a rushing crashing sound, he impacted heavily with something hard and the shock broke his hold on Tim and Bart and he skidded a while and then everything went still.

\---

It was night and dark and there was grass and sirens wailing. Kon pulled himself out of someone’s lawn and tried to stand. Sirens getting louder and -- that wasn’t sirens. That was Cassie screaming. In his ear.

“Kon! Kon, you’re back! I don’t believe it -- Kon!”

“Cassie,” Kon said, and then it hit him. “Cassie!” 

She laughed and threw herself at him and it was lucky that Kon was made of sturdy stuff, because strength endowed by the will of the Greek Gods and hugging? Not a good combination. Kon couldn’t bring himself to complain though. 

“Cassie,” he said and he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to hug her, tell her how much he’d missed her or just look at her, so he settled for just holding her and grinning like an idiot. 

“Cassie? What’s going on?” 

Kon winced at the flashlight suddenly shining in his face and he let go of Cassie to shield his eyes. Mrs Sandsmark was doing her best to sound intimidating, while wearing a really sad bathrobe and a flowery nightie. She seemed rather non-plussed by the sudden appearance of three teenagers in her garden at this time of night.

“Kon! He’s back!” The way Cassie said it, as if it was the most important thing in the world -- grinning like an idiot and hugging Cassie was probably not going to win him any points with her mother, but Kon didn’t care.

“Superboy? What about the others --” Mrs Sandsmark shone the torch around the garden. Tim’s fall had been cushioned by her shrubbery, he was currently throwing up in what was left of her herbaceous borders. Bart had, judging from the burnt grass and the skid marks, made it all the way across the lawn and into the fence. Kon winced, giving Cassie a last squeeze before going to pull him out. 

“You okay?” he asked, helping a very dazed Bart to his feet. The speedster had fence splinters in his hair, and the bottoms of his sneakers were scorched but his t-shirt had survived the trip through the Speed-Force okay.

Bart wobbled but remained standing. Thank god for speedster metabolisms and friction-proof auras. “See Cassie?” he said immediately. “I knew I could do it --”

“Bart, you little idiot,” Cassie said, and hugged him too. 

Kon stood and grinned and watched them until it occurred to him that he should probably be helping Mrs Sandsmark stamp out the small patches of burning grass Bart had left in his wake. Tim emerged shakily from the bushes to get a hug from Cassie and really, the sight of his girlfriend hugging their best guy friends while in her pyjamas should not make Kon this ridiculously happy, but he figured it was adrenalin or something. 

“Tim, you okay? You need a glass of water or something?”

“I just want to sit down until the world stops spinning,” Tim said, doing just that. “I am never, ever, doing that again.”

Bart wobbled over to sit next to him. “You going to be okay?” he asked worriedly, patting Tim’s arm and Kon tucked his own arm around Cassie, holding her close so they could both watch. 

“I’ll be fine,” Tim said. “Bart you -- you really did it. You brought us back.” He let his hand rest on Bart’s shoulder, and Bart just beamed at him. “Bart,” Tim said again, his voice oddly soft and he sort of leaned closer and --

“Ewwww! Vomit-breath!” And Tim blinked as he was suddenly being held at arm’s length. “You’re staying way away from me,” Bart told him and Kon shouldn’t have laughed but Tim’s expression --

He was still laughing when Flash appeared, Jay Garrick following him a second later, to haul the three of them over to S.T.A.R labs for a medical check and a debriefing.

\---

Kon was first out of the medical screening, as the journey to Keystone at light speed had done nothing for Tim’s stomach and prolonged time in the Speed-Force had left Bart dehydrated and prone to channeling short bursts of lightning. Superman was watiting for him, and flew with him to Smallville, telling him along the way that the device had been used to transport the Alternate-Luthor back to his own reality. Kon would have liked to have sent a message along with him, to let Rob and Bartholemew know they got back safely, but he supposed they would figure it out. Just before they touched down in Smallville, Superman told Kon how glad he was to have him back and that and the looks on Ma and Pa Kent’s faces when they saw him -- yeah, it was good to be back. 

He didn’t get to see the Bart, Tim or Cassie again until the Tower that weekend and it wasn’t so much like their usual weekend thing as one big welcome home party. Kory returned briefly to say how happy she was they were back safely, and Kon thought he’d even seen Raven smile. Members of the League had even dropped by, until Kon was beginning to feel a little overwhelmed by the attention. 

Tim had still managed to make himself scarce without being obvious about it, and Kon found him on the patio, watching Bart and Gar squabble over pizza through the living room window.

“It’s nice to be missed and all,” Kon said, taking the deck-chair next to Tim. “But this is going to extremes.”

Tim just looked at him. “What’s on your mind?”

Kon shrugged. “Haven’t seen you all week. Wanted to know how you’re doing. Whether you’re, you know, thinking about it.”

“About them?” Tim raised an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah. I mean, uh --”

“They’ll be fine, Kon. Rob and Bartholemew had come to an understanding before we left, and despite my counterpart’s amazing ability to stuff things up, I doubt anything will get in the way of them now.”

“Heh,” Kon smirked. “Glad to have your expert opinion on that.” He glanced at Tim. “For that matter -- how are you doing?”

“I am not pining away for love of you, if that’s what you mean,” Tim said dryly. “As a matter of fact --”

“Yeah?”

“ . . . I was thinking of asking Bart out.”

“All right!” Kon grinned. “So what’s stopping you?”

“I -- well, don’t you think it’s a bit sudden? We just got back -- and there are so many things to consider. This is Bart we’re talking about and -- we’re friends. I don’t want to compromise that --”

Kon shook his head. “Bart!” He yelled. “Get over here!”

Bart appeared, pizza in hand, before Tim even had time to panic. 

“Tim has something to say to you,” Kon said, grinning as Tim shot him an evil glare. 

“Over here,” Tim said, tugging Bart to the far end of the patio. 

Kon could have pointed out that with his hearing, that didn’t make an awful lot of difference in privacy, but Tim could still kick his butt. Instead he picked up the womens magazine that someone, probably Cassie or Mia but possibly Gar, had left on the patio and tried not to smirk. 

“So,” Tim said, and shifted akwardly. “I was wondering if, uh . . . maybe you wanted to --”

“Yes!” 

Kon stuffed his fist in his mouth in an effort not to laugh at Tim’s ‘caught-in-the-headlights’ expression. 

“Bart. You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

“Sorry.”

“Okay. So -- do you -- I mean, would you want to go --”

“Yes!”

“Bart, stop that. And Kon, stop laughing. This isn’t funny!”

“Depends on where you’re sitting,” Kon smirked. “Geez, you two. Just kiss already.”

Apparently, Bart knew a good idea when he heard one.


End file.
